COLLABORATIONS
by JoaniexJony
Summary: If Shep didn't have bad luck, he would have no luck at all. Atlantis had developed a defence against the Wraith. Just a pity it couldn't help John when he got a visit from Kolya's brother. Sequel to 'Retribution' Shep whump, Ronon too with all the team.
1. Chapter 1

If Sheppard didn't have bad luck, he would have no luck at all. Atlantis had developed a new defence against the Wraith which could save thousands. Pity it couldn't help John when he got a surprise visit from Kolya's brother, Nessan. Shep whump, some whump for Ronon too, with all the gang, including Carson making an appearance. Sequel to 'Retribution.'

Disclaimer:- I don't own SGA…do you seriously think I would have taken these guys off the screen?

Warnings:- Nothing too nasty to start with, but some torture in later chapters. Also a little bad language.

Many thanks to my Beta, shepsgirl72 for her expert eye, sorting out my errors and also for giving me this title. – You're a star!

COLLABORATIONS

CHAPTER 1

John wrestled with the covers, squinted at the clock, and knew sleep was going to be a stranger tonight.

For days now he'd felt achy and exhausted, but now realised his throat hurt too. However, with a meeting scheduled with Ladon for tomorrow, this was definitely _not_ the time to become ill. Reluctantly dragging himself out of bed, John reached into the bottom drawer of the desk for some Tylenol, grabbed the glass from the night-stand and shuffled, shivering, over to the bathroom.

He let the faucet run until the water felt icy cold before filling the glass. The tablets tasted dry and bitter against his tongue as if sucking all the remaining moisture from his aching throat, so he knocked them back in one gulp. But no sooner had the cool liquid hit the spot, when the wet vessel slid from his grasp, and shattered, as if in slow motion, into a million pieces on the tiled floor…c_rap. _John looked down at the shards of glass surrounding his bare feet and immediately regretted not asking Santa for a pair of slippers. But there was no point in crying over spilt milk, or a broken glass for that matter, so easing himself down he carefully began mission cleanup_._

How did these things happen to him? It was ridiculous, a grown man held captive in his own john by broken glass. All he wanted was one simple thing, a freaking glass of water. But no, in the life of John Sheppard even that small act became a life-threatening event! Aware his inner voice was starting to sound way too much like McKay, he realised whatever was wrong must be making him grumpy. So sucking it up, knowing if he wanted to go back to bed sooner rather than later, he'd better get on with clearing up.

In the far corner of the room John spied the trash can. W_ho_ _the hell put it over there? Oh yeah…I did…_Gingerly stretching over, he realised the smallest room really wasn't small enough as he couldn't quite reach. So steadying himself, he made another grab for the rim, but over balanced at the last moment, missed by a mile and fell hands first onto the glass. John flinched as the shards dug into his skin, and on instinct sat back on his ass...OW! Sheppard remained there for a minute contemplating his situation, more concerned about the _reaction_ from his team, than the blood staining the floor or the throbbing pain in his rear. While considering his next move, wondering what else could possibly go wrong, in true Murphy's law tradition, he didn't have long to wait. As he struggled to his feet trying to avoid any further injuries, the famous Sheppard natural agility had obviously left the building, as within minutes he emerged looking like road kill, a trail of blood snaking behind, evidence of the fact he misjudged the short jump back into the bedroom landing full square onto a large chunk of glass with the ball of his foot.

Now what the hell was he going to do? John knew sitting was _out_ and walking impossible, but there was a worrying amount of blood pooling on the floor, so help was needed and soon. Really what he should do was ask Beckett for a house call. Except for the fact there was no _way_ even one member of the base was going to see his sorry ass on display as they wheeled him through the halls in a gurney. Therefore, to keep his dignity intact, John lent sideways against the desk and, taking slow, deep steady breaths, did the very thing Carson told him _never_ to do… removed the glass from his hands piece by piece. As the blood trickled through his fingers, he started to feel light headed, but it was too late to stop now so sucking it up, he grabbed the large piece lodged in his foot and pulled…_Arghh!…_

Okay, so far…so good. Next on the agenda, find something to stop the bleeding. Discarded on the floor beside the bed lay yesterday's tee shirt; it wasn't that clean, but would have to do. Carefully reaching down to pick it up, he wrapped it tightly around the bloody foot so at least now he could walk…kind of. Doubts about what he was doing crept in as the room swayed, but modesty won over common sense, and once the world stopped spinning, John hobbled over to his tac vest to retrieve a couple of field dressings for his hands. The finished product didn't look pretty, but was all he could manage given the circumstances. Now all he had to do was get to the infirmary before he passed out…piece of cake.

ooooOoooo

Meron looked out into the dimly lit infirmary and wondered, not for the first time, how he had suddenly become so lucky. It was only just a year ago he was scraping by, working for a mere pittance in that dreadful prison with few resources and little help. Now…he was a valued member of the Atlantis medical team, spending his days in a bright, modern infirmary, respected by his colleagues, and learning new skills every day. If it was up to him he would happily live in this beautiful city forever, however, Anaysa missed having her family nearby, and with a temping job offer to train under Kudran's top surgeon, well…it seemed his brief but wonderful spell in Atlantis would soon be coming to an end.

"Hi, doc…got a minute?"

Meron turned around, shocked to find John Sheppard, pale faced, bleeding all over the floor.

"Colonel! What happened to you?" The young doctor quickly went over and shouldered the wounded man towards the nearest bed. "Here…let me help you sit down."

Sheppard was struggling to stand…but _sitting_…not an option. "I'd rather not..."

The young doctor followed his friend's gaze and was shocked to see several piece of glass imbedded into the colonels backside. "Oh...well, let's get you onto your front then, okay? How did you say this happened?"

John cringed, but not just from the pain. "I…um…dropped a glass. Is there any way you could patch me up and let me get back to my quarters? I have a _really_ important meeting tomorrow."

Meron was well used by now to the colonel's attitude to the infirmary, but would have accommodated him if he could. However, he wasn't happy with the vitals taken so far. There was obviously a fair amount of blood loss, and his temperature was elevated, not to mention the glass embedded almost everywhere.

"Sorry, Colonel, but I'm going to need to take some scans. From what I can tell so far, at the very least you'll need stitches and a blood transfusion, but there could be further damage, unseen by the naked eye. Even if there is nothing else, I'm keeping you in overnight and taking you off duty for at least a couple of days."

"Aw…_come_ on, Meron…"

"_**So**_…you're the person responsible for trailing blood all over the station…I should have known."

A pair of familiar scuffed leather brogues along with their owner appeared in John's line of sight.

"Oh…hi, Carson…it looks worse than it is you know." John felt uncomfortable under the Scot's scrutiny as Beckett inspected his bloody rear before shaking his head.

"I'll be the judge of that, Colonel Sheppard. Just be grateful Rodney's not here with his camera."

Two hours later, lying in bed, sitting uncomfortably on a rubber ring while waiting to go in for a _wee _spot of surgery to his foot, John cursed his luck. As Carson approached with his pre-med. "Are you sure you're not overreacting, Carson? It was only a small piece of glass."

Beckett picked up a syringe and pushed it into the IV. "Well if _someone_ hadn't yanked out the rather _large_ piece of glass and _walked_ to the infirmary, surgery might not have been necessary. As it is there is still a shard of glass lodged deep in the muscle which needs to be removed before I can do the repair."

John sighed, seeing yet more down time in his future... "Bottom line, Carson. How long will I be off my feet…sorry…_foot_."

"At least two weeks. But I would have signed you off duty for a month anyway."

"_Wha_…" Beckett saw the shocked look on Sheppard's face…_maybe_ the man hadn't known he was ill.

"You have glandular fever, Colonel. Surely you must have felt at least run down for a few days? Anyway, I grant you all of your symptoms; elevated temp of 101c, swollen glands and sore throat could have been mistaken for a cold. But the blood tests confirm it…it's complete rest for you for at least the next few weeks, then light duty after that.

Sheppard was stunned." Honestly, doc…I just thought I'd overdone it sparring with Ronon, and combined with working long hours preparing for the meeting tomorrow I put it down to that. It was only tonight when my throat got sore I guessed I was getting sick."

Carson saw John falling under the effects of the sedative. "I'll let you off then…_this_ time. But if you don't take it easy over the next few weeks, there may be complications, which could set you back for months…and we don't want that do we?" Sheppard shook his head in agreement. "Good… Right the surgery shouldn't take long and I'll stitch the deeper cuts while I'm at it. If everything goes okay, I should be able to release you to your quarters in a couple of days, but you won't be able to use crutches until your hands heal, so it's a wheelchair until then."

"Thanks, Carson. Could you do me a favour…don't tell anyone how I got hurt?"

Beckett smiled. "I _won't_, lad…but I can't vouch for the detail who cleaned the mess in your quarters." John groaned. "Sorry…but I think there's a good chance it will be all over the base by breakfast. Never mind, Colonel. I'm sure people will enjoy the laugh then soon forget all about it."

"U…ink?" John slurred

Beckett lowered the bed flat before pushing it toward the theatre. "No…not really. _Would_ you?"

"Cr.p."

ooooOoooo

_He felt suffocated as the mask clung to his skin…tight…oppressive…he couldn't __**breathe**__…_

"Colonel…_John_…Calm down!" Beckett firmly held down his arms as Sheppard's bandaged hands clawed at the oxygen mask. Suddenly hazel eyes flew open, staring at him in panic.

"It's _okay_, John. You're in Atlantis…safe." Carson saw Sheppard's head slump back onto the pillow, his breathing gradually even out, and relief easeing the tense lines on his face.

The last thing John remembered was going into surgery. "Wa... ha.p.d?"

"Remember those complications I told you about? Unfortunately you developed an infection caused by the cuts, and because your immune system was badly weakened by the fever, you've been pretty ill with pneumonia."

"Hw…ong?"

"A few days, but the worst is over and you're on the mend, I'm happy to say." Beckett took an ice chip and placed it in his friend's mouth. "I'm sorry, John." Sheppard looked up puzzled. "When we got you back from the Genii village I was so intent in getting your injuries healed, I never addressed the mental aspect of your torture…I should have. How long have you had the nightmares?"

John waved his hand weakly in a motion indicating Carson to remove the mask so he could speak. "A year ago…going back to the prison…setting those guys free…brought it all back." John saw Beckett visibly upset. "Not your fault, Carson. You put me back together…it's just with Nessan still out there…I can't forget."

"How about I take this off and put on the cannula instead?" John gave a ghost of a smile "Look, John. I know how you feel about speaking to psychiatrists, but I treated those prisoners…remember_._ One of them died with shock…the others were left scarred mentally as well as physically. I can't even begin to imagine what it must have been like for _you_ wearing one of those hellish contraptions. You really need to speak to someone about this. Please, just think about it…okay?"

Sheppard nodded then closed his eyes feigning sleep, but Carson wasn't fooled. He knew Sheppard would never speak to a shrink, but somehow or other he would have to get some help…

ooooOoooo

"Honestly, Meron, are you sure about leaving? Everyone will miss you and I know Torren will miss little Osler terribly."

"Who's leaving?" John yawned, coughed and flinched as he shuffled in bed.

Keller raised the bed slightly and was pleased to see John's smile. "Hi, doc. Good to have you back from vacation. Anyway did I hear you say someone's leaving?"

Nodding to Meron, she said, "Our young friend here is telling me he's thinking of leaving. Maybe you can talk him out of it."

John saw Meron standing next to Keller, looking embarrassed. "Anaysa wants to be nearer her parents, and I've been offered a good position at the hospital…I don't really want to go but…"

"Family comes first, Meron I understand that." John went to extend his hand then put it down as it was covered like an Egyptian mummy. "I'll miss you, Meron…we all will. Can you at least wait until I'm able to give you a ride home?"

Meron smiled. "I would like that very much, Colonel." The young doc was still beaming as he walked into Rodney, who was looking both relieved and pissed.

"You take all the joy out of a funny situation…you know that, Sheppard? Only you could get a glass cut and end up at death's door. I don't know how you do it!"

"I wasn't at _death's_ door, Rodney and I'm feeling better…thank you. How did the meeting go with Ladon? Is he willing to take part in the early warning programme?"

"Yes…and no. _Yes_, he would very much like to have advance warning of a Wraith attack, what sane man wouldn't. Except he seems to think the satellite, piggy back system we're proposing is some kind of spying device...Paranoid or what?"

John sighed. "You did tell him the satellite will only be activated when triggered by a signal from its nearest neighbour? Did you explain the technology behind it…tell him each satellite is attuned to recognising the unique energy signature given by a Wraith ship?"

"_Duh_…let's see…Do you think I'm a moron! Of _course_ I told him…I even played nice and made it simple enough so even he could understand."

"You _didn't_ insult him, did you, McKay? The guy's not an idiot…**damn**_…_I knew I should have been there!"

Rodney saw his friend's pale face go even whiter and started to feel guilty. "Look, John, I didn't dumb it down too much…honestly. But I do think he was thrown because he expected you to be there. How about you just concentrate on getting better, then we'll arrange another meeting once you're back on your feet. By that time you might even be able to sit down without the aid of a whoopee cushion."

"Very _funny_, McKay. Happy to get that out of your system are you?"

Rodney smiled. "Oh, there's a million of them where that came from. Oh, hold on… there's a message coming through on my radio. I wonder if it's from Ladon, maybe he's seen sense at last. Put it though, Chuck."

John prepared to listen to Rodney's responses, trying to gauge the conversation. Weirdly though, it seemed to be only one way, as McKay didn't utter a word. More worryingly was the way his friend had become spooked, as he saw the colour slowly drain from his face.

"What is it, Rodney…is everything okay?"

"It's _nothing_…Now, what were we talking about?"

"_**McKay**_…I'm not stupid…tell me what's wrong. Are Teyla and Ronon alright? They're not hurt are they?"

"I'm sorry, John. It was from the First Minister on Kudran. He thought you'd want to know, Endas was found dead in his cell…he was murdered."

TBC

Hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Please review, as I really like to know what you think.

.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks so much for all the reviews, and the story/favourite story alerts. Hope you enjoy the next chapter!

COLLABORATIONS

CHAPTER 2

Sheppard felt weak and helpless. He was unfortunately all too used to enduring long painful spells of recovery, but those episodes were generally after injury in the line of duty, or occasionally as a result of being tortured by some nut job or other seeking information on Atlantis. However, confined to a wheelchair due to self- inflicted injuries, and feeling like crap because of a virus was really getting him down.

Worse still was being stuck in Atlantis, being treated like an invalid, while Lorne was on Kudran investigating Endas' untimely demise. Sheppard knew Nessan was behind it…he could feel it in his bones, and Meron's face when he got the news only confirmed it. However, no one was telling him anything, trying to protect him he supposed, but it was driving him _crazy_. John knew he was acting like an ungrateful asshole…he couldn't help it. Ever since the news came in he'd hardly slept. Memories of being encased in the oppressive mask were haunted him each time he closed his eyes, waking him up shaking like a leaf, lying drenched in a pool of sweat. Teyla changed his sheets each morning assuming it was the fever, but Beckett wasn't fooled for a second. The wily Scot even threatened to sedate him if he didn't get help soon. Deep in his gut John knew a visit to the shrink wouldn't cut it. The only cure…find Kolya, bring the son of a bitch to justice…because only then would he be able to find peace.

_Buzz_, _buzz_. It was too early for lunch so who the hell was it now? John knew his friends were only trying to be there for him, but he just wanted to be left alone. "_Who's_ there?"

"Are you busy, Colonel? I didn't want to disturb you, but I thought you might like to hear the news from Kudran."

John smiled as Lorne entered the room. "Come in, Major…disturb away…downtime is seriously overrated."

"I know _exactly_ what you mean, Sir. Anyway, I spoke to the new warden, a guy called Nalum, who allowed me to interview the prisoner responsible for killing Endas. It would appear on the face of it to be simple payback on the warden who locked him up, but something didn't feel right. The guy was nervous, constantly looking over his shoulder. I've met cold blooded killers before, Sir…so have you, and unless he was a really good actor, he just didn't seem like the type."

Sheppard felt beads of sweat role down his back as his heart started to race. "Was it a righteous conviction? Endas sent down a lot of people who'd done nothing wrong."

"Yes, Sir. Since you revealed the warden's activities, their justice dept carried out a review of every single case, and these days the prisoners left inside actually deserve to be there. Do you know the weirdest thing about this murder? This guy was sent down for embezzlement, a white collar crime…and only had six months left to serve on his sentence."

Sheppard continued. "So why would someone like that with no violent background, due to be released soon, become a killer?" John felt the room began to sway.

"Are you alright, Colonel…should I call the doc?"

"I'm _good_, Major. Just a little tired…this damn fever. Lorne, could you do something for me?" Evan nodded. "Do a background check on the prisoner's family situation. If I'm right, Kolya is behind this. I'd take an educated guess the bastard threatened him with their lives, to make the guy do his dirty work…just Nessan's style."

John watched as Evan left the room. He felt like a washed out rag, but knew it wasn't from the illness. Nessan was behind this…he just knew it. It would be just like him to exact revenge on his enemies…those who'd crossed him. Ladon must be warned…the Genii settlement too…but what about him? Did Kolya even know he was still alive, that he hadn't finished the job? Wheeling himself over to his bed, he struggled under the covers, grimacing as his tender ass protested the movement. After hearing this news all of his suspicions seemed to be confirmed; Nessan had resurfaced and it was only a matter of time before they met again. Sheppard closed his eyes, and hoped with Kolya out of hiding he might actually sleep this time and maybe, just _maybe,_ the nightmares might stay away.

ooooOoooo

Rodney walked slowly along to Sheppard's quarters, dragging his feet as he went. Standing outside the door with his finger poised on the buzzer, he wondered what the hell he'd done wrong _now_. McKay knew John had never been the best patient, especially during the recovery process…but this time…the man was a royal pain in the butt. Nothing anyone did was right. Sheppard was moody, snapped at everyone…_even_ Teyla. Just last week Ronon, his faithful watchdog_,_ stayed away for a couple of days, terrified in case he retaliated with the sick man. But a friend in need was…a nuisance… a pest? No…of course not, Sheppard wasn't normally this bad, he'd just been through a lot. Finally ready to go in, McKay pinned a smile on his face and just hoped John was in a better mood.

"Hiya, buddy…come on in." John beamed. "Grab a beer…get me one too. There's chips on the desk and Shona is making a pepperoni pizza especially for us…cool huh?"

Rodney went over to the fridge and stole a look at his friend out the corner of his eye. "Where are Teyla and Ronon? Hold on…_Wait_ just a minute...I thought you weren't allowed to drink alcohol with glandular fever?"

"You aren't a genius for nothing, Rodney. I _wasn't_ allowed alcohol, but now I am. Keller did a final check of my blood, and it's official…I am finally back on light duty, hopefully active next week, once my fitness level improves. As to your first question, the guys are collecting the pizza plus a few other snacks on the way here." John heard the buzzer and smiled "Here they are now…I hope you haven't seen 'Iron Man II' yet…I hear it's good."

Later, after they'd eaten their fill, watched the movie and John finally saw his friends _relax_ in his company for the first time in weeks, it finally dawned on him how badly he'd behaved this time. He went over to the fridge and handed each of them a beer. "I want to make a toast…to friends…where would we be without them?"

Ronon smiled and shook his head. "You really were an asshole this time, Sheppard…you know that?"

"Yeah…_sorry_, guys. But please…could you not mention ass."

Rodney smiled. "No problem, Sheppard. C'mon, Ronon. _Cut_ the man some slack, don't you see he wants to put it all _behind_ him."

"You're really not going to let me live this down…are you, McKay?" John saw the feigned innocence on his friend's face and got his answer.

Teyla gave him a mischievous smile. "By the way, John…you never did tell us, how _exactly_ did you sustain so many injuries with one small glass?"

ooooOoooo

Ladon's office was the agreed place for the next meeting. It was stuffy, dimly lit and a far cry from the large airy conference room in Atlantis. Somewhere John would be glad to return to, once he finished his pitch to convince the reluctant Genii to sign up to the early warning system.

"Technically speaking, the basic principle of the system is simple. Dr McKay has believed for some time the organic element of Wraith ships could make them vulnerable. At first, we hoped to develop a weapon…still are, but so far it's still on the drawing board and not a viable option. However, during this process Rodney discovered the organic element of Wraith ships reacts with their power source to release a subtle, but specific energy signature. After it became clear the weapon wasn't going to be built anytime soon, he got the idea to develop a silent alarm which reacts on contact with the signature. The initial tests went well, but we were left with a problem as to how to build an effective delivery system, which would not only do the job, but also have a wide scope to cover a larger area. In the end, we decided to harness it into a test satellite and it worked like a charm. All of the tests we've carried out so far have been successful, so the plan is, if we place enough satellites in orbit, once the alarm has been triggered on just one, it will send out a warning to its nearest neighbour…and so on, etc."

Sheppard saw the look on Radim's face and knew the guarded expression well. He could tell the Genii leader was enthusiastic about the plan, but was also aware Ladon would not give his agreement easily or risk being seen as a 'push over' to his people.

"I understand, Ladon, you'll want to discuss these proposals with your scientists, I should also say if you agree, then of course Atlantis would provide the Genii with all the hardware necessary to operate the satellite." John saw Radim's façade slip as his eyes gleamed at the suggestion. "In that way, your team would be in control of their own monitoring system, and any suspicions regarding outside interference would no longer be a concern."

Ladon smiled. "So…lets see if I have this correct, Colonel Sheppard. Atlantis is prepared to provide the Genii with equipment, which we would have sole control over, in order to protect ourselves against the Wraith? Excuse me for my cynicism, but what exactly is in it for you?"

"I'll admit when you put it that way, Ladon, it does sound as though Atlantis is going a bit soft. But…it's a genuine offer. The way Dr McKay puts it, the more satellites we have in the galaxy, the more effective the system will be. If there's too large a gap between each one, it will take longer for the signal to reach everyone. This will delay evacuation procedures, leaving more people at risk from the Wraith, which I believe is something no one wants. So you see…it benefits not just you or Atlantis, but every ally who signs up to the plan."

Ladon smiled, extended his hand, and the two men shook. "I'll have to run it by the cabinet first, of course, Colonel, but I think we have an agreement…I'm only sorry you weren't here the first time. Dr McKay's manner is a little…_condescending_ perhaps?"

Sheppard finally relaxed as with the Genii on board, the most suspicious of their allies, it looked as though their plan would work after all. "Rodney is a very clever man, a genius even…however I will admit sometimes he can be a little overly enthusiastic." Ladon laughed and shook his head. "Ladon…have you any more news on Kolya?"

Radim filled two glasses with wine and handed one to Sheppard. "No, I haven't. Since your call, my security detail has been increased…but so far there's been no sign of him. Do you really think he will target me next?"

John drained his glass and got up to leave. "Well…there's a good chance of it. Nessan had the ex warden on Kudran killed as you know, so it looks like he's out to settle old scores. Did you warn Teresa?"

"Yes I did, Colonel, and there's a security detail near the village for their protection. I just wish we could apprehend him once and for all."

"You and me both, Ladon."

ooooOoooo

Ronon was waiting outside and fell into step beside him, as they walked through the bunker to make their way outside.

"Where's Teyla, Ronon?"

"Said something about doing some trading. Told me to tell you she'll meet us at the jumper."

After over an hour stuck in the airless office, John took a deep breath of cool, clean air, thanking his lucky stars he worked in Atlantis, a haven of light and fresh sea breezes, so different from the oppressive bunker he'd just left. As he walked alongside the fields with their golden crops of wheat swaying in the soft summer breeze, Sheppard remembered the village where he'd been enslaved. It was a smaller settlement, less prosperous than here, but he realised it was harvest time there, too. However this year he'd played no part in preparing the fields to receive the seed, and a weird part of him kinda missed that…_sort_ of.

Reaching the area where the jumper landed, John disengaged the cloak and prepared to wait.

"How long did she say she'd be, Ronon?"

Ronon shrugged. "I thought she be here by no…_**Aghh**_."

John heard the gunfire too late, saw the big Satedan fall to the ground and watched helpless, as blood oozed from a bullet wound in his friend's gut. Quickly removing a field dressing from his vest, he heard Ronon hiss with pain as he pressed down hard against the wound.

"Can you see who it is, Sheppard?" Ronon grunted.

John looked around and ducked as another round flew past his ear. "Nope, but we'd better get inside…do you think you can make it?"

Ronon just glared as John shouldered him up, dodging more bullets before finally reaching the relative safety of the jumper. Sheppard settled his friend on the bench before reaching for more ammo.

"Where the hell do you think you're going, Sheppard?" Ronon panted in pain.

"Oh, can I answer that? The colonel is coming with me." Both men turned to see Nessan Kolya, and by his side two men, one of whom was holding a knife to Teyla's throat. "You really are a hard man to kill aren't you, Sheppard?"

"So they tell me. Are you okay, Teyla? Did they hurt you?" He was angry to see Teyla's cheek was covered with a large vivid bruise.

"I'm fine, John…"

"Quiet! Enough of the social pleasantries. Let's go, Sheppard. If we leave now," pointing to Ronon "I might let this one live."

"Look, Kolya. We both know it's me you want. Let them go… then I'll come with you peacefully."

Kolya smiled, his teeth glinting white. "And exactly why should I do that?" Looking at the Satedan. "Him I have no use for…but this pretty lady is another matter altogether. You have no bargaining power here, Sheppard, so I can do exactly what I want."

A grain of an idea was forming in his mind…it sucked, but it was better than nothing. "Yah think so? What do you think of this craft, Kolya? Impressive isn't it? The Genii have nothing like it…no one does, and only I amongst the three of us have the ability to fly it. So, here's _my_ deal…you let my people go, unharmed, and I'll take you where ever you want to go."

"_**No**_, John…you _**can't**_." Teyla strained against her captor, but was unable to move without cutting her throat.

"Well, Kolya? The clocks ticking."

"Get _him_ out of herel; he's bleeding all over my ship. Sheppard…allow me to divest you of your weapons." John stood with his hands in the air as all his weapons, including his so-called hidden knife, were removed. "Now sit down and prove to me you can pilot this craft."

Sheppard began the pre flight checks, which, as he suspected by the gleam in Kolya's eyes, was enough to prove to the suspicious Genii he could fly the jumper.

Only then did Kolya turn to his men and say with reluctance. "Release her, she's free to go. Now, Sheppard, if you are quite _satisfied,_ I want you to fly to these co-ordinates."

John was relieved his team were free to get help, and saw the disconsolate look on their faces as the hatch closed shut. He tried to smile to reassure them, let them know he'd be okay…but who was he kidding?

TBC

Well...he's back! You just can't keep a 'good' bad guy down! Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and please review.


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks again for all the reviews, they are much appreciated! And thanks too to shepsgirl72 for her speedy beta and suggestions. Well here we go with the next installment...

COLLABORATIONS

CHAPTER 3

Teyla had only been a young woman, grieving for her father, when the burden of responsibility was thrust upon her slim shoulders. As leader of her people, she soon became accustomed to making decisions, some of them spur of the moment, to ensure the safety and wellbeing of her tribe. One of those decisions, probably the most significant of them all, led her to trust a stranger from another galaxy, which brought them to Atlantis and into yet another chapter of her life.

When she looked back on that day, trusting John Sheppard, someone she'd barely met, could have had disastrous consequences. However, he'd proved himself then and on numerous occasions since, as not just a strong commander, but also a man with a good heart. Someone who would put his life on the line time and time again, not just for his people but also for hers. As she watched the hatch close on his lopsided smile, Teyla was filled with remorse at having been the means of John's capture by a man who would stop at nothing until he was dead.

Even as the jumper soared into the pale, blue sky, quickly disappearing into the horizon, anxiety threatened to overwhelm her. Worry about John…would she ever see him again...and concern about Ronon. His blood covered her hands, her shirt, and despite pressing hard against the flow spilling from his side, it showed no sign of stopping. Tears of frustration fell down her face as she knew this day she'd failed, not just her friends, but also Atlantis. It was her job to protect her team, care for them, keep them safe just as if they were her own family…which in a sense they were. But today she'd been too eager to meet with a new trader, someone who could offer a bountiful supply of fresh fruit and grain…only to fall victim, into a trap set by Nessan to lead him to John.

How he knew John would be there, was irrelevant now. But it was obvious Kolya was well informed, and even without her co-operation found his way all too easily to the jumper.

"It's not your fault, Teyla," Ronon croaked.

"_Shush_, Ronon…try not to speak. Someone must have heard the gunfire and help will come soon."

"I'm…_good…_just…help…me…up _**aghh**_!"

"You must lie still, Ronon…I do not wish to lose another friend today."

Ronon reached up and grabbed her hand. "Don't….give up…we'll get…John…ba.." Teyla saw his eyes close shut, felt the Satedan's strong hand lose its grip as he fell unconscious, and prayed help would come soon.

ooooOoooo

Sheppard didn't want to die, but there was no way he was letting the jumper fall into enemy hands. At least if he took Nessan along with him…well his death wouldn't be entirely for nothing.

All too aware of Kolya's dark, piercing eyes boring into the side of his head, he began to press the 'gate address into the DHD. However, right at the very last moment, instead of pressing the last symbol John took the inertial dampeners off line instead, causing the craft to judder.

Quickly banking sharply right, then left, he heard the satisfying thud as his passengers hit the hard metal floor. In his peripheral vision, he saw Nessan dive towards him, but drove the jumper up then down in a swift, sharp movement sending the Genii back into the rear with a smack. Sheppard winced as his ribs crunched into the consul, but knew this pain was nothing compared to what would come if his plan failed. Satisfied no one was able to stop him for the moment, he sent the jumper towards an unpopulated area, only reinitialising the dampeners at the very last minute.

Even as the ground came rushing towards him, he struggled with the controls trying to reduce his speed realising he'd probably left it way too late. But it wasn't the first time he'd beaten the odds, and he hoped it wouldn't be the last, if not…at least he'd taken the bastard with him. Closing his eyes against the inevitable impact, John's last thought was of Atlantis as the jumper crashed hard against the forest floor, skidding unhindered along the lush green under growth, until pain exploded all around him and the world turned black.

ooooOoooo

Awareness came slowly as he opened his eyes, only to close them again quickly as the world spun and his stomach heaved. Spikes of pain were shooting through his skull and he choked on the acrid smoke filling the cabin. Nessan knew he must rise and leave quickly if he was to survive, but he wasn't going without _him. _So struggling to his feet, Kolya made his way over to find a deathly still Sheppard lying on top of the consol. The Lantian was bleeding heavily from a head wound… but was still breathing.

He steadied himself as another bout of dizziness hit, making him sway, before roughly grabbing the pilot off the consol, dropping his limp body onto the floor. Surrounded by dense, black smoke it was becoming harder to see, let alone breathe, but he wasn't leaving Sheppard behind. Nessan gritted his teeth as he reached down and grabbed the pilot's vest, before gradually dragging him inch by inch past the prone figures of his stricken men, out the craft and into the fresh air.

Kolya fell to his knees, coughing and gasping for breath, all too aware Sheppard nearly took his life. He glared at the still figure lying beside him, and cursed himself for being so stupid as to believe the bastard would do as he promised. The fact Sheppard had been willing to risk his own live, to take his, wasn't lost on him. However, revenge was something which would have to wait, be savoured, for another time because now he was stranded in the Genii home world where he was a wanted man. Part of him wanted to leave the Lantian to die in the wrecked ship or better still kill him…**now**_. _Except he needed to keep him alive as insurance, until he thought of a way to make good his escape. He must think of a plan, it was imperative, but as another wave of dizziness overcame him, jumbling his thoughts, Nessan knew he needed to rest even for a minute, so lying down on the cool fresh grassy floor he closed his eyes…

ooooOoooo

Teyla sat in the infirmary waiting room, staring at her feet, shunning everyone around her, as Kanaan walked through the door with Torren by his side. As the little boy toddled over, she wrapped him in her arms, hugged him close, and looked at Kanaan with tears in her eyes.

Rodney, sitting nearby, was worried about his friends. Even though he knew there was probably nothing he could have done to prevent John's abduction, he still felt guilty. This was his team and he should have been there with them. But instead, Sheppard asked him to stay behind and help Radek make plans for deploying the system, told him two heads were better than one, his expertise was needed on Atlantis. At the time he'd been infuriated, as he suspected John didn't want him at the meeting…thinking it was his fault Ladon hadn't signed up the first time round, which if he was honest, remembering the sour look on Radim's face, was probably true. He dragged his thoughts back to the present and looked over at Teyla, but she turned away, avoiding his gaze. She'd barely spoken since coming back, and he was concerned about her. It was unlike her to be so remote, so visibly upset, as she was always in control, the sensible one who provided the voice of reason to every situation…the glue that held their team together.

Looking to Kanaan for support, Rodney spoke. "Ronon's tough, Teyla…you know that. And he has the best doctors working on him. I know I kid Carson about not being a _real_ doctor, but the guy knows his stuff, so does Jennifer…the big guy's going to be fine."

"Very nice of you to say so, Rodney...in front of witnesses, too."

Beckett appeared in front of them still in his surgeon's gown, looking exhausted. "Well, I'm happy to tell you, Ronon will be fine. He'd lost a lot of blood, which we've replaced, but apart from that he was extremely lucky all things considering, as the bullet went straight through, managing to miss every vital organ. The little bugger did manage to nick his large intestine though, but we repaired it easily enough, along with the muscle damage. However, he will be off his feet for a week to ten days, so I'm relying on the two of you to keep him amused while he's here. I presume you can manage that?" Beckett smiled. "Now, Teyla love…will you _please_ go for your post mission check? I don't expect Ronon to wake before morning and we need to make sure you're alright. Dr Keller is waiting for you." Beckett watched as the young mother kissed her child, handed Torren over to his father, and walked as if in a daze, into the infirmary.

Satisfied she was out of hearing distance, he turned to Rodney. "Any word about Colonel Sheppard?"

Rodney looked up, eyes filled with concern. "Yes, but none of it good. Lorne did a sweep of the area and eventually found the jumper. It was wrecked, the hatch was lying open and he found two of Kolya's goons dead inside, but there was no sign of Sheppard or Kolya."

Carson put his arm on Rodney's shoulder. "Well, at least they didn't find his body, Rodney, and we know the Colonel has more lives than a cat."

"But he's out there somewhere hurt, Carson, and Lorne couldn't pick up his transmitter signal."

"Look, Rodney. We both know the transmitter could have been disabled in the crash, plus if Kolya took him, although that's not exactly good news…it still proves he's alive. I'm not normally a betting man, but I'd wager Kolya can't be feeling too clever either after that crash…so don't give up…you'll find him…you always do."

ooooOoooo

Jennifer took a final check of Ronon's vitals and, satisfied with the results, left the intensive care unit to go back into the ward. There, sitting on the bed and covered in blood, was Teyla, who was just staring into space.

"Hi, Teyla. I've just left Ronon. He's doing really well, and hopefully should be in the main ward by tomorrow." Keller didn't miss the complete lack of reaction and knew the reason…shock. "Let's get you out of those dirty clothes and into some scrubs, so I can have a look at you."

Several minutes later, showered and changed, Keller began to check her friend over, talking calmly all the while. "That's quite a bruise you have on your face…did someone hit you?"

Absently touching her face, Teyla looked back, surprised."Oh, yes…I forgot. When I walked into the room I only saw one man at first and fought back, but another was hiding along with Kolya. I struggled to get free…then Nessan slapped me with the back of his hand. It's nothing"

Keller took Teyla's chin gently in her hand to examine her face. "Let me be the judge of that. Were you hit anywhere else?" Teyla shook her head. "Teyla, you are not to blame for what happened. Rodney told me Ladon found the person responsible for the trap, an old associate of Acastus. So there was nothing, _nothing,_ you could have done…I'm just relieved you're not badly hurt."

Keller saw tears well up in her friend's eyes. "Here's what I think we'll do. I know you would like to see Ronon, and just to be sure you didn't sustain a concussion, how about tonight I set you up on the next bed so you can keep him company?"

Teyla nodded and allowed herself to be led away. Jennifer knew there was no concussion but she also knew her friend needed proximity to Ronon to give her some comfort and hopefully a little peace.

ooooOoooo

John was in agony. His head was pounding, white, hot searing pain spiking through his skull. But every part of his body ached…especially his chest. Opening his dry, gritty eyes, instead of the pristine white walls belonging to the Atlantis infirmary, he found himself looking into the blurred face of a stranger, a short, tubby little man with short, grey hair dressed in a dark brown habit.

The man nodded, satisfied his patient was finally awake. "How are you feeling?"

"_Sore_. Where…am….I?"

The stranger poured water into a glass and helped him drink, causing John to hiss with pain at the small movement, before easing his head back down against the pillows.

"You are being cared for by the Order of Rathane on the planet of Sailden. We are a religious order who have resided here for many centuries. Our trading party found you and your friend lying unconscious. As your injuries were great, they decided it would be quicker to bring you here, through the Ancestral Ring, rather than attempt the longer journey back to the Genii settlement."

Sheppard's heart sank, wishing they had left him behind, knowing how long it would take Atlantis to find him now. "How…long…have…I…been…out?"

"Four days. The injury to your head is quite severe and three of your ribs are cracked. We were beginning to believe you may not recover from your injuries, but now you have awoken, I am confident with rest you will soon be able to join the faithful in the fields. Your friend has been most concerned about you."

"_**Friend?" **_John felt his heart thud in his chest…No, no...**no**. It _couldn't_ be…could it? "I'm sorry…but I can't seem to think straight. What was my _friend's_ name?"

The monk smiled. "Do not concern yourself. Memory loss is common with this type of injury. Your friend…or should I say travelling companion, _John_ _Sheppard_, told me he did everything in his power to land the craft safely, but regrets the death of your two colleagues, Mr **Kolya**."

John's head swam, but not from the concussion. Panicked, he reached for his dog tags only to find them missing, just as Nessan walked into the room wearing them around his neck.

Kolya smiled when he saw John's distress. "It's good to see you awake, _Kolya_." He nodded to the monk. "Thank you for taking such good care of my prisoner…but are you sure he's going to be alright? He seems to have gone rather pale…"

"My, my. I do believe you are right. Too much excitement for one day I think, Mr Kolya." The monk poured liquid from a bottle on a nearby table, then helped John sip through lips too stunned to speak. "This will help you sleep and next time when you awake, I'm sure you will feel able to tolerate a longer visit."

Sheppard saw the gleam of hatred flash and die quickly in Nessan's eyes, as he struggled to stay awake.

Nessan turned to the monk. "Thank you, Brother. I'm sure that is something we'll both look forward to. In the meantime, goodnight, Mr _Kolya_ and… sweet dreams."

TBC

Hope you liked the little twist...and please review, I really do like to know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks again for all the reviews, please keep them coming, I love to read each and every one! And a special thanks to my beta shepsgirl72. I really appreciate your help and suggestions, of course, any mistakes are mine.

Okay back to the story. So now Nessan is John Sheppard and visa versa…at least as far as the monks are concerned!

COLLABORATIONS

CHAPTER 4

The sickness had stopped days before, the dizziness shortly after, now only the headache lingered as Kolya sat sipping the sharp, tart curative given by his hosts.

Nessan flinched as he touched the small dressing on his temple, and could only imagine the pain Sheppard must be feeling. The Lantian looked a mess. Heavy bandages covered his head and torso with the exposed surrounding skin black and blue, making his pallid complexion seem almost luminous, a stark contrast against the livid bruises. Kolya knew the monks were surprised Sheppard survived, as was he, but it was just like the man to refuse to die, jeopardising his plans for a better life…_his_.

He despised the man with a vengeance, but, with reluctance, conceded Sheppard did have a way with people, drawing them to him with his flash smile and easy manner. But what was it about John Sheppard that made him who he was? Since learning the Lantian had survived his beating, he was determined to find out more about the man. What made him tick...why did he protect others at the expense of his own life? Nessan remembered back to that day in the field when he accused him of stealing, all Sheppard had to do was give up the boy, but _**no**_. Despite knowing what would happen, the self- righteous fool chose to take a vicious beating, instead of telling the truth. How noble of him, how selfless…how stupid.

Of course, he knew beforehand Sheppard would willingly fall into his carefully laid trap, and the man hadn't let him down. But what made someone sacrifice themselves like that? Although he was prepared to paid well for information, there was surprising little to be found about Atlantis military leader. His private life was just that…private. No one was willing to talk about the man, except to say how much he was _admired_…how _brave_ he was. So what was it that motivated the Lantian, _what_ drove the young child to become the man he was today? He could just imagine the young John, surrounding by a loving family, given every advantage a child could want. Not for him the constant disapproval of a father who didn't want him, being treated as an embarrassment…shunned as an outcast.

Men like Sheppard had no idea, no concept of they type of suffering **he'd** endured. So what was the mystery behind the man...and why did it matter so much to him anyway? Kolya watched as John flinched, still in pain even while asleep, and realised probably for the first time, how much he'd allowed Sheppard to get under his skin. Agitated, Nessan rose from his seat and walked over to the window. There, beyond the confines of the monastery, lay fields filled with golden corn, swaying in the breeze. It reminded him of home, the place where he grew up, and the people who turned against him.

Anger welled up within him, and his eyes filled with bitter tears as he remembered how, without even being present, the Lantian had humiliated him in his own village. His people turned against him…even his mother, all because of one small act of trickery. Whether or not Sheppard was guilty on that occasion shouldn't have mattered. He was a murderer and deserved to be punished, and it was his responsibility, his right to make the man pay with blood…for all the Genii blood he spilled. Even now, he still couldn't understand why his deception mattered so much to them. The Lantian had killed 55 of their kin, but instead of thanking him for punishing the man who caused them so much pain, they looked at _him_ with disgust… loathing even…in the end choosing to help a murderer, instead of supporting the decision of their leader, another Genii…one of their own.

Part of him realised Sheppard wasn't responsible for what happened, but he would never forgive him all the same. However, despite everything, regardless of how he felt about the man lying on the bed, Nessan decided he would still take his name…his life. Because being Nessan Kolya, or Culast for that matter had brought him nothing but pain. So, perhaps changing his name, becoming John Sheppard…the hero... would finally bring him the happiness he strove for… and a last chance of having a better life.

ooooOoooo

The cool evening breeze wafting through the small window chilled his skin, making him shiver, and John groaned as the small movement reawakened all his aches in glorious Technicolor.

Opening his eyes, Sheppard sighed as he saw the malicious gaze of Nessan Kolya set firmly upon his face, and shuddered, remembering with sickening clarity what happened the day before.

"I was starting to think you would never awaken, Sheppard." Nessan noted the pain etched on John's pale face. "I do have to say, you really aren't looking any better."

John scrubbed his face weakly with his hand and flinched." What's the deal, Kolya? First, you hate me so much you want me dead…now you want to be _me?_ Forgive me if I'm a mite confused."

Nessan laughed. "Well, I can understand why it might appear that way. Let's just say, when I woke up lying next to you, I had an epiphany. It dawned on me here was the chance I needed to change my life. Nessan Kolya, the criminal, a wanted man loathed by many, would breathe his last. Then I, by taking your identity, could become Lt Colonel John Sheppard… a hero_, _someone loved by his people, respected throughout the galaxy…even by my own family."

"But then I recovered and spoiled your plan…sorry about _that_." John smirked. "Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't appreciate the compliment, but I should tell you, being John Sheppard isn't all it's cracked up to be. Sure…I'll admit there are parts of my life I like, but some of it pretty much sucks, too. For one thing, you're not the only bad guy who hates my guts, so if you continue with this charade…watch your back."

"You'll make me cry in a minute, Sheppard. Next thing I know, you'll be telling me what a rough childhood you had…how no one loved you." Nessan mocked.

Sheppard tried to rise out of bed, only to fall back against the pillows, his face etched with pain and anger.

"My _life,_ past or present, is none of your business, Kolya. You can try and keep up this pretence if you want…I don't suppose these folks would believe me if I told them otherwise. But just remember, this scam of yours will only last as long as it takes for someone to recognise me…or you, and in the meantime, be careful what you wish for."

Nessan rose from the chair. "I'll leave you to your pain, Sheppard…and one last thing. I do still intend to kill you the first chance I get…"

The wooden door creaked open, and a monk, someone they hadn't yet met, appeared. He was tall, extremely thin, with thick dark hair streaked with grey. Unlike the other brothers, he wore a tan habit, almost golden, instead of the usual dark brown garb, with a long, thick gold chain draped around his neck. "Good evening, gentlemen. My name is Father Malen, I am the spiritual head of this order, and it gives me pleasure to welcome you to our community.

Nessan came forward and spoke. "Well, Brother Malen, I'm just checking on my prisoner. When do you think he will be fit to travel?"

The monk went to sit by John and started checking his wounds. "As I have just said, it is _Father_ Malen, as I am an ordained priest. However, regarding Mr _Kolya,_ while he is making good progress, he is still far from recovered. In any case, both of you will remain with us, as our guests, until your case can be heard by the Father Confessor the leader of this monastery."

"This is _**outrageous**_." Nessan protested, "I am an important man who has duties to return to, including bringing this man to justice. I demand to have an audience with the Father _**immediately**_!"

Unperturbed, the monk answered. "He is not here at present, nor is he expected back for several weeks. I should also tell you neither your job, nor your title has any bearing here, _Mr _Sheppard,as in this community all are equal. Therefore, I would suggest you respect the rules of this order until our leader returns, and I am sure, in the meantime, you will wish to help our faithful followers bring in the harvest, in return for your food and lodging."

The barely concealed rage made its way, full blown into Nessan's furious face. "Very well...You leave me no choice. Show me the way to the Ancestral Ring and I will make my own way back…without the prisoner."

Producing a very large shiny gun from under his habit, the monk pointed it at Kolya.

"Perhaps I didn't make myself _clear_ the first time. Neither of you will leave until the Father Confessor has decided your fate… So I suggest you accept the hospitality of this order, as I'm sure you will agree none of us wants any unpleasantness."

For the first time since meeting, John and Nessan shared a joint look of concern, before Kolya glared at the monk one last time, then turned sharply on his heels to leave the room.

ooooOoooo

Beckett signed with frustration, when he saw the pale, sweat slicked face of Ronon Dex as he struggled to walk down the ward unaided.

"And where _exactly_ do you think you're going, son?"

"_Where_ do you think?"

Going over to the Satedan, Carson heard Ronon grunt with pain, as he took his arm to help him the rest of the way to the little boy's room. "You can lose the attitude right _now,_ and next time, Ronon, you ask for help like I told you…or the catheter goes back in…_understand_, Laddie?"

Ronon gave a low growl. "Yeah, right…How about you just let me out of here? Sheppard is out there…and I'm no good to him stuck here like some _**freaking**_ invalid…"

Carson started to let him go, only to catch him, just as he began to fall.

"Oh…I can see you're raring to go, Ronon. But just how far do you think you'd get even out this infirmary…never mind the base in your condition. Don't be a bloody fool, man. You're no use to John like this, please… just let us _help_ you, and I promise we won't keep you here any longer than necessary."

Ronon shook his head and smiled. "You're one scary guy sometimes, Beckett…But to tell you the truth, I'm more afraid of Keller."

"Aye, your right enough there, son." Carson laughed. "A great doctor she is, but there's a woman you don't want to get on the wrong side of. All smiles one minute and the next she's still grinning as she sticks you where it hurts. I should know…Jennifer does my physical."

Dex laughed as he shuffled back towards his bed, holding his side. "Where's McKay? He usually comes around about now."

"Rodney's in at a meeting with Mr Woolsey. From what I understand, his early alarm system was set off yesterday…it looks like the Wraith are on the way." Seeing Ronon's concerned look, he added, "A long way from us at the moment I'm glad to say…but Atlantis is helping in the evacuation of the planets affected. Right… let's get you back into bed, and some pain relief I think. Don't give me _that_ look either, it's necessary…being in pain will only hold back your recovery, something neither of us wants." Preparing the syringe, Beckett pushed it into the IV and saw the pinched look leave Ronon's face. "Now rest easy and I'll send Rodney to see you once he's done."

As Beckett walked away, Keller approached. "What was Ronon doing out of bed, Carson?"

"The usual…thought he could kid me into thinking he was going to the bathroom. Anyway, I've spoken to him and hopefully I got through…but he's worried about Colonel Sheppard, so how long we can keep him here…I don't know."

"You did well, Carson…I heard you from the office." Beckett paled, wondering just how much Jennifer did hear. "Well most of it anyway. Do you think we need to up the sedatives to keep him calm?"

"No, that would only lose his trust. I'll have a word with Teyla and Rodney and hopefully they'll come up with something to keep the big guy occupied for a few more days."

Jennifer nodded. "Okay, sounds good to me. Oh, by the way, Carson, I see your physical's due…I have time to do it now if you want?" Keller suppressed a smile as all the remaining colour left Carson's face. "Oh, come now, Doctor, I promise not to stick you _too_ much…"

ooooOoooo

Mr Woolsey saw his concern mirrored on the faces of all the people seated around the conference table. When Dr McKay first proposed the early warning system, he had thought it to be a good idea at the time. However, its successful application exceeded even the IOA's widest expectations. The problem now was two-fold, they knew there was a Wraith threat on the horizon…but how many ships were coming was still unknown. In addition they had become a victim of their own success, because providing a safe haven for the people under threat was going to be a huge drain on Atlantis', limited resources.

Richard addressed the meeting. "I've contacted Stargate Command and they tell me the Daedalus will arrive in two or three days. In the meantime, Teyla, can I rely on you to act as liaison with our allies? Some of them are most reluctant to leave…despite the fact the Wraith are practically on their doorstep."

"As you wish, Mr Woolsey. Except I would like to be called if any word comes in about Colonel Sheppard's whereabouts."

Woolsey felt all eyes upon him, and felt uncomfortable. "Certainly, Teyla. However, while we are all concerned about the colonel, I think it's fair to say he wouldn't want us to put innocent lives at risk…to search for one man."

Rodney's face went puce with anger. "_Excuse_ me? This isn't just one man we're talking about here…it's John Sheppard. _Colonel Courageous_. The guy who puts his life on the line for each and every one of us on a daily basis!"

"I apologise, Dr McKay, if you thought I didn't put any importance in finding Colonel Sheppard. I am just as concerned as you are. In fact, I have just received information from Ladon Radim that may help in the search, a list of known visitors to the Genii home world on the day of his disappearance."

Rolling his eyes, Rodney looked at Woolsey in disbelief. "Why didn't you say so? This is _great_ news. I've already been able to narrow down the 'gate addresses taken from the DHD to forty-seven, and this will narrow it further. Erm…are we finished here, Mr Woolsey?"

Woolsey could almost have laughed at the agitated scientist who was itching to leave. Never the less, while he also hoped they could locate Sheppard soon, the fact remained while he was in charge of this base, the needs of the many must outweigh the rescue of one man, regardless of _who_ it was…

TBC

Hope you liked the chapter and please review!


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks for the reviews. Please keep them coming as they encourage me to keep writing – thanks also to shepsgirl72, my fab beta.

COLLABORATIONS

CHAPTER 5

Sheppard walked slowly along the sandstone corridor towards the kitchen, happy to be out of his sick bed, and finally free of the confines of the small room where he'd stayed, pretty much alone, since arriving ten days ago. This was his first opportunity to see around the monastery, and John found it as he expected, clean, stark, unadorned by rugs or any other ornaments, only the sunlight streaming through the two long windows at either end, saving it from plainness by giving it golden glow.

John was grateful to the monks, who while not exactly _kindly, _had saved his life. However, he was more than a little concerned at what kind of religious order it was, who carried concealed weapons under their habits, and fitted solid metal shackles around his ankles the minute he was mobile. Right up until then he was happy to sit tight, confident in the knowledge rescue would come, especially after Kolya left the infirmary. Only then, with the malicious Genii absent, had he been able to rest peacefully, sure in the knowledge those dark, beady eyes wouldn't be staring, as if into his soul, each time he awoke. But all good things come to an end, and as the knot in his stomach testified, John knew that situation couldn't last, as today he was joining the 'faithful', which also meant he would be reuniting with his nemesis…Nessan Kolya.

The large kitchen was almost rectangular in shape, but despite being hot, it was devoid of any real warmth…just another stark, utilitarian space, like the rest of the building. On one side, set deep in the middle of the wall was a wide iron grate inset with slated shelves, each set evenly spaced over hot coals, which he reckoned would probably be great for making pizza. The opposite wall held two deep ceramic sinks with long wooden worktops alongside, neatly piled with pans, and everything else needed to cook for the hungry followers. In the centre of the room was a stout wooden table set with odd chairs of varying shapes and colours, which brought back memories of a happier time, as they reminded him of chairs around grandma's kitchen table, in her old rambling, red brick house near Carmel.

Mom had only ever taken him and Dave there once, during a summer vacation when he was six. It was the best vacation of his life. When the sun shone, which was most of the time, they went down to the beach and made castles in the sand. Then later, as it started to get hot, they chased each other in and out of the waves, getting completely drenched, laughing until his face hurt, watched all the while by both women who never let them out of their sight.

Although as he reminisced, he realised even the rainy days were pretty special, too. Being stuck inside was never boring, like at home. Sometimes grandma would let them bake cookies, and as the sweet smell came from the oven, they would play endless games of hide and seek, scooting round the big wooden table, but always ending up with either him or Dave hiding in the pantry, _surprised_ each time they were caught. Even as a young kid John wondered about those odd chairs, where did they come from...why didn't grandma buy a smart new set? But he forgot to ask at the time, and never again got the chance. Because that was the last time he saw the old lady, as soon after they got home, mom got sick and after her death his dad broke off all contact with her family.

Without mom, all the fun and laughter left their lives. Dad, who liked order above all else, didn't know how to be a parent, didn't even try, and never made the effort to understand either of his son's. Dave of course, did everything he could to impress him, partly out of fear he'd guessed…at least in the beginning. But not him. Even from that young age, he'd rebelled, got into trouble time and time again, as his need for adventure couldn't be suppressed. His dad would shut him in his room without supper, or sometimes, when he really pissed him off, throw him into the small, dark cupboard under the stairs, with the door locked. Looking back, how he never became claustrophobic was a miracle. It was really weird, but he felt secure in the cramped space…and even felt comforted by the inky darkness. Maybe that was why he felt right at home in a 302 from the very beginning, while some of the other cadets got freaked out by the enclosed space.

Of course, once he got too big for the cupboard, his refuge, and the locked room could no longer hold him, his dad tried other methods to bring him into line. His father never hit him. Physical abuse, was not his style, that would have been too intimate…too personal. A man in his position, a businessman, used to getting what he wanted, instead used the tools of his trade…blackmail.

While he watched Dave get everything…bikes…cars…rides with dad in the company jet…he was denied them all, just because he wouldn't fit in with the grand plans laid down for him, while still in his mother's womb. The fact he was consistently top of his class especially grated with the old man...since he was wasting his intellect, his potential, by refusing to go to the schools carefully chosen for him by his father. Finally, when he was almost fifteen, Patrick Sheppard used the last weapon in his arsenal against him. He ignored him, cut him off from everything but food and a place to sleep, and John Sheppard became the black sheep of the family…an ungrateful misfit…an outcast.

It would really have pissed the old man off if he'd known his abuse had the opposite effect. Being cut off made him have to work for a living, right from his first paper route at the age of seven. It taught him early on in life the value of money, and brought him into contact with others who didn't have the advantage of wealth or power. That type of experience couldn't be bought, and taught him respect…for himself and for others. Still, he knew he was screwed up in many ways. For a long time he had a problem with any kind of authority figure, and he was stubborn. He would never let anyone see him beaten, or in pain…not if he could possibly help it. And, because of dad and his intolerance… his need for domination…John couldn't stand to see others browbeaten or abused, and always did whatever he could to stop injustice and oppression…regardless in what form it took.

Aware of activity around him, he dragged himself back to the present and saw at the top of the kitchen a huge pantry, stacked full of supplies and another monk, possibly one of the oldest men he'd ever seen, walk out dragging a large sack.

"Brother, Frama, this is one of the visitors who arrived injured some time ago. As he is not quite fully recovered and unable to work in the fields, I thought he could be of some help to you in the kitchen."

John suppressed a smile as Frama looked him over like a piece of livestock, before pointing to a chair by the table. Sheppard winced as he eased himself gingerly into the chair, protecting his ribs, as the old monk handed him a large sack of potatoes and a blunt knife.

Sheppard quickly concealed his look of surprise at being handed a potential weapon, but Malen had already seen it.

"I'm _sure_, Mr Kolya, you are not thinking of leaving us. However, I should warn you, we are many miles from the Ancestral Ring, all of us are armed, and brother Frama may look old, but he is far from harmless_…_too many before you have made _that_ mistake."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Father." John smiled, then looked to the old monk. "How would you like these done, Brother? Peeled whole, halved or cut into fries?"

Frama glared at John as Malen walked away shaking his head and smiling. "_Fries_? What nonsense you speak, boy! Just peel and wash, like everywhere else in the galaxy."

As he settled down to his task, Sheppard could have laughed at the indignant expression on the old monk's face. Except of course, he was far from home, rescue still hadn't come, and the chaffing of the tight chains around his ankles prevented an easy escape. All of which reminded him, this situation really wasn't funny at all.

ooooOoooo

Torren was teething again and Teyla, usually patience personified, was starting to feel worn out, agitated from lack of sleep...plus sick with worry over John.

The halls of Atlantis were unusually quiet this early in the morning, deserted of people who had long since gone to their quarters to sleep. Teyla sighed, jealous at the thought, as she carried the crying child up and down the empty corridors, quietly singing every lullaby she knew, praying the steady motion would eventually lull him to sleep and let her get some, too. Approaching Rodney's lab, she saw a light shining from the doorway, but wasn't really surprised to find her team mate stretched across the bench, too engrossed in his work to even hear Torren's heartfelt cries as she approached

"_Rodney_…it's two o'clock in the morning, why are you still working? If I had known you didn't intend getting any rest tonight I would have left my son with you, so at least _one_ of us could get some sleep."

McKay looked up surprised. "Is that the time? What with analysing the data from the satellites and trying to cross-match the Intel from Ladon with the 'gate addresses retrieved from the DHD…I had no idea."

"I understand, Rodney…you are under pressure trying to determine the level of the Wraith threat and are also worried about John, as am I. But at least Ronon has now been released to his quarters, so hopefully by the time he is well enough, we will have the information we need to mount a rescue. Although I am concerned about Ronon. We both know how desperate he is to start searching, and how impatient he gets during recovery. It would not be the first time he has disobeyed Dr Beckett's orders about taking it easy."

"Who are you calling _impatient_?" Standing outside, leaning against the doorframe was Ronon, breathing heavily.

Teyla and Rodney shared a look of concern at they saw their friend, pale-faced and slicked with sweat, holding his side.

"What _the_ …You've been _running_…_Ronon_! Sit down you moron…before you fall down." Rodney jumped off the seat, grabbed his friend's arm and forced him down on his chair, ignoring the Satedan's dirty look and angry grunt. "Beckett's going to have a fit when he finds out…_seriously_, what in hell's name did you think you were doing? You only got out of the infirmary today!"

"Stop fussing, McKay…I'm _good. _Which one of you is going to tell Beckett anyway?"

"I _**will**_, if you do it again." Teyla glared at her friend, both angry and concerned at the same time. "Rodney is right, Ronon. You might have been released from the infirmary, but you are still healing inside. I know you want to start searching for John…we all do. But we still don't know where he is, so in the meantime you must be patient…allow yourself to rest and heal, and then when the time comes, you will be ready to join us."

Closing his laptop with a snap, Rodney checked his watch and yawned. "Right…as its obvious I'm not going to get any more work done tonight, what do you say we head for the canteen, and the big guy here sweet talks Mable into making us some of her hot chocolate. You know… her own special recipe, with real cream and marshmallows on top?"

"Why do you think she would do that for me, McKay?" Ronon flinched as he slowly moved off the chair.

"You've got to be kidding me…" Rodney saw Ronon's surprised look. "Honestly, you didn't know the woman practically worships the ground you walk on? Did you seriously think she gave double helpings of chocolate chip pudding to everyone? All that power…and you didn't even know it…what a _waste_."

Walking along side by side, enjoying the easy banter of her friends Teyla looked down upon the beautiful features of her son, now composed in sleep, and smiled. He was so precious, and she was a lucky woman to have him…the life she shared with Kanaan…her friends. But, there was still an ache in her heart when she thought of John. She felt responsible for his abduction, regardless of what anyone said…but they would find him and bring him home…they always did.

ooooOoooo

At the end of the day, John stared at his hands, saw the angry red skin, and gained a new respect for kitchen staff everywhere. Sheppard had no idea how many potatoes he'd peeled, but by the time they were cooked and ready to eat, if he never saw another one…it would be _too_ soon.

John hissed, his tender ribs protesting the movement, as he moved the hot, heavy bowls from the kitchen, along the corridor, and down the short flight of stairs to the dining room. There, he placed them, as instructed, at equal intervals along the two long, narrow wooden tables, where the hungry men sat patiently waiting. For the next twenty minutes or so, he went back and forth, carrying heavy pots of hearty stew, along with bowls brimming with brightly coloured vegetables, before being allowed to sit himself, at the one empty seat remaining …opposite Kolya.

Nessan looked up, eyes full of hate, as John took his place at the table. Sheppard held his angry glare, noting the man looked as exhausted as he felt. A sure sign the monks were right, he was far from fit, feeling completely wiped out from mere kitchen duty, his ribs aching after lifting just a few heavy bowls.

Shunning the man in front of him, Sheppard bypassed the potatoes, and helped himself to some stew and vegetables, surprised at how much of an appetite he had, despite being in such close proximity to someone who hated him with a vengeance, someone who would stop at nothing until he was dead.

Sheppard watched as the weary men rose from the table, and made their way gradually through to the adjacent room, as he slowly began clearing the tables, before making one of several trips back to the kitchen. One of the benefits of being an officer, then subsequently commander of a base, meant John hadn't been assigned KP duty for years, but he was making up for it now, losing count of how many dishes he'd washed and dried. Without his watch, it was impossible to know what time it was by the time when he eventually finished. John only knew it was dark, and he felt fit to drop, when Frama eventually took him to where he would spend the night.

They passed the tables, which not long ago had been laden with food, as the old monk showed him into the same room where he'd seen the others go earlier that evening. It was a large windowless space, lined with simple wooden bunks on either side, with only two wall mounted, oil filled lamps saving it from total darkness. As he adjusted his eyes to the gloom, Sheppard could just about make out there was only bunk left unoccupied at the end of one row, which was just across from where Nessan was sleeping.

Even as he eased his aching body down onto the flimsy mattress, he heard the door close, followed by the chilling sound of the key turning in the lock. John thought of Atlantis, his friends, and hoped Ronon was okay, but still couldn't help but wonder why it was taking so long for his team to find him. His transponder was still where it should be, safely hidden in his arm, and as far as he was aware, they were only taken through one 'gate…so what was the hold up?

Aware he was being unreasonable, John gave himself a mental shake, realising it was only because this whole setup had him spooked. He hoped his team were okay, and knew Atlantis would never leave him behind without a good reason, which made him worry more, because something must be wrong to delay his rescue. Across the room, John saw Kolya sleeping peacefully in his bunk, and wondered when the Genii would make his move. Exacting his revenge would be a really dumb thing for Kolya to even contemplate in this place, and Nessan wasn't normally a stupid man. But he was restrained and desperate…never a good combination for a man with a hair trigger temper like his. However, John felt so damn tired, he could barely stay awake, so he reluctantly closed his eyes, and hoped that whatever Kolya was planning, it wouldn't be tonight…

ooooOoooo

TBC

Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and please review.


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks to those who reviewed, and for all of you who are still following the story. And of course, thanks to my Beta, shepsgirl72

By the way, as I am catching up with the editing, I now hope to post every day.

COLLABORATION

CHAPTER 6

Much to John's surprise, a week later Kolya still hadn't bothered him…unless you counted the dirty looks, which he didn't. Of course, with Nessan just lying across the room he wasn't sleeping well, waking up several times each night, alert to every single movement or sound. However, Sheppard knew this situation wouldn't last, as it was only just a matter of time before Nessan eventually showed his true colours.

In the meantime, he was woken by the old monk before dawn each morning, and was lucky if he fell exhausted into his bunk by nightfall each night. The work was neither difficult nor back breaking, but was hot, tedius and constant. Brother Frama didn't believe in conversation while you worked, and being a sociable kind of guy, John really missed the personal interaction. So he persevered regardless, ignored by Frama at first, then eventually eliciting the odd word or sometimes a nod…which in Sheppard's book, was at least a start.

However, by the end of the week, Sheppard realised his efforts were more successful than he'd thought. One day, after falling asleep while peeling potatoes, instead of getting into trouble as he might have expected, he awoke to find the remainder of the sack neatly peeled in a pile, with a cold drink of mead lying by his arm. It was a small act of kindness that made him smile, probably for the first time since arriving, but as Father Malen entered the kitchen, John knew it might be well be his last.

The smile faded from Sheppard's face, as he reckoned a visit from Malen meant his time working in the kitchen was probably at an end.

"Hi, Father, can I help you? Brother Frama has just popped out for a minute."

"It's you I am here to see, Mr Kolya…I need to check your ribs. Lift your tunic for me please."

John did as asked, aware the bruises had faded, and the tenderness, which had caused great discomfort only last week, was nearly gone. After much prodding by the head honcho, he admitted to himself that while there was still a little discomfort, it was nothing to write home about. After the brief exam and the look on Malen's face, it didn't take a rocket scientist to guess the news that was coming.

"Well, I can see you are almost fully recovered, Mr Kolya. So from tomorrow I am pleased to say you will be able to join the others working in the fields."

Malen smiled at Frama, who had just come back into the room. "I'm afraid, Brother Frama, you will be losing your helper tomorrow. But never fear; I will get one of the brothers to take his place."

Sheppard was sure he saw disappointment on the old man's face at hearing the news. As for him…it had been long, hard, hot work toiling in the kitchen, but in a weird kind of way he would miss brother Frama, who while a quiet man and hard taskmaster, at least had a good heart.

ooooOoooo

As the sound of the gong reverberated around the monastery, heralding the start of another day, John joined the bleary eyed workers for breakfast - oatmeal and their version of tea. Soon afterwards, he followed them outside into an open courtyard, where they stood, almost to attention in a neat, orderly row. This was his first time outside the monastery building, and although it was barely light, he saw there were all standing in a large open area surrounded by two rough sandstone walls, one on either side, with a large well set square in the middle. However what was more than a little strange for a religious order, not to mention a _little_ concerning, was the all too familiar sight of a tall, wooden post, complete with chains, positioned off to the side.

Beyond the immediate area, Sheppard observed acres of fields some with golden wheat swaying in the chill morning breeze, others with short, green leaves poking their heads out the ground. While higher up on the hill, beyond the tree line, was a large orchard, branches heavy with strange, purple looking fruit. Parked at the end of the courtyard were three trucks, each manned by monks, with two of the _holy_ men standing nearby carrying rifles.

John stood shivering in his thin cotton tunic, wondering what was going to happen next, when Frama appeared from the main entrance and slowly made his way towards the front of the large group. Looking into the assembled group, he called out each name in turn, pairing two men at a time, until there was only one pair left standing in the dry dusty courtyard… him and Kolya.

Nessan's angry face looked set to explode as he stormed towards the monk, only stopped in his tracks by Frama's 9mm pointing straight at him. "I don't understand, Father…can't I work with Kalib today? You know this man's my prisoner. Surely you can't expect me to work with **him?**"

"Kalib has been given his assignment for the day, and so, Mr Sheppard have you. Everyone in this community is treated equally. Therefore, regardless of what your association is with Mr Kolya, I would suggest you put it behind you, and learn to set your differences aside."

Looking at John. "What do you say, Mr Kolya?"

"Can't say I'm thrilled about it either, Father, but if that's what you want, I'll play nice if he will. One question though…if the faithful are willing workers, then what's with the armed guards?"

Malen returned his answer with a grim smile. "You are correct, Mr Kolya. The faithfull _are_ willing workers, who give of their labour freely and can leave whenever they wish. However, I am neither naïve nor stupid, so until your fate has been decided by the Father Confessor, I have engaged certain precautions to prevent your escape. Now, gentlemen, I am bored with this conversation and do not wish to hear another word about it…is that understood? Your task today is picking potatoes, so please join the others in the middle truck."

Sheppard clambered into the back of the truck and sat down on the wooden bench beside the other men. He knew it was no coincidence the armed monks came in last, to sit at the end with both of them positioned at their inside. But as the truck wound its way, bouncing along the rough, dirt track road towards their destination, John distracted himself from his situation by looking out into the area for potential escape routes. Much to his disappointment, he saw nothing. The landscape surrounding the monastery was more or less a flat open space, with not much in the way of cover, and the only forestation, high upon the hill, was too far to reach without eating a bullet first. Never the less, John continued to keep his eyes peeled, as he hadn't given up yet, besides which, it kept his mind off the difficult day that lay ahead.

ooooOoooo

Kolya punched the lumpy sack for the umpteenth time, lay back again on the ground, and smirked as he watched Sheppard toiling in the hot midday sun.

"I think you missed one, Sheppard." Nessan pointed to the one lone potato left behind in the row.

Sweat streaming down his face, his barely healed ribs aching under the strain, John looked over and saw Kolya's self-satisfied smile as the Genii lay back, obviously enjoying his discomfort.

"Fun's over, Kolya. It's time for you to start pulling your weight, because I have a bad feeling if we come back short today, our friendly monk, Malen won't be too happy."

Nessan saw John grimace, as he dragged another full bag over to the side before starting on a new row.

"Well, Sheppard, you'd better start working faster then, because while you were languishing in your sick bed, getting waited on hand and foot, I had to _**work**_."

"Right…so _that's_ it…I get it now. You want revenge because _I_ got injured worse than _you_? Let's see…I was lying alone, in agony for days on end, while you had to get your hands dirty. I am really sorry about that, but it was hardly my fault."

"_Yes_ it was…or did you forget, Sheppard it was you who flew the craft into the ground?"

John flinched. "Okay…so you have me there. But what the _**hell**_ did you expect me to do, Kolya? Give up my people, and just hand over a valuable piece of equipment? And for a while there I actually thought you were smart."

Sheppard saw Nessan sit up and glare over at him. "Look, Nessan. It's only us here, two men held captive in enemy territory. I _know_ you hate my guts, and for the record I don't like you much either…but think about it, we should be working together, figuring a way out of here, instead of you lying there sulking about who had the bigger bandage."

"How _**dare**_ you…I don't _**sulk**_!" Nessan stormed towards John enraged, but after catching the guard watching him, quickly turned away to lie back down again closing his eyes.

John wiped the sweat from his brow, looked over at the lazy Genii and sighed. He remembered the time lying in agony, after being fed on by the Wraith in the next cell. Three times the Wraith fed on him, his body screaming at the horrendous torture inflicted upon him, but even then, Sheppard saw something of a kindred spirit in the creature who was the instrument of his pain. A being who would always, by nature's cruel design, be destined to be his enemy. Even during the agonising feeding, as his youth was painfully ripped from him year by year, he had realised this Wraith was as much a victim as he. Someone, who had endured years of torture, by starvation at Kolya's hands. Grabbing the potatoes from the ground and throwing them into the sack in frustration, John found it hard to understand…also really sad. Why if a Wraith and a man could set aside their differences and work together to achieve a joint goal, he and Nessan couldn't do the same?

ooooOoooo

Much to Sheppard's surprise, the armed monks made no comment at the smaller quantity of filled sacks he loaded into the truck. But neither had they commented on why his _partner_ spent the day sunbathing, either. So, mentally crossing his fingers, John just hoped there would be no repercussions…at least not on him. He was exhausted, desperate for a shower, a hot meal and bed. In fact, he felt so tired, he reckoned tonight he would sleep straight through to morning, without keeping an eye open for his Genii friend…well _maybe._

The cold water felt great against his hot, clammy skin and it gave him a lot of satisfaction when he saw Nessan flinch, as the spray touched his raw red face, burned by the sun. Changed into a fresh tunic and pants, he felt almost human again as he went to join the others at the table.

"_**Stop**_…Mr Sheppard, Mr Kolya…a moment please." Father Malen waited by the door, barely concealed angry etched on his face.

"Only those who have completed a full day's labour are allowed to partake of their reward."

"Wha…Look, Father…I can't speak for my _friend_ here, but I worked damned hard out there today."

"Yes, I am aware of that, Mr _Kolya._" Malen looked at an unrepentant Nessan. "However, because your partnership didn't bring back the acceptable quota of sacks, while you make take some liquid refreshment, you will none the less not be allowed to eat with the others tonight."

Sheppard, swallowing his anger, decided to try the diplomatic approach. "I apologise for my partner_… _he was feeling a little unwell today. But I'm sure with a meal and a good night's sleep, both of us will make up the shortfall tomorrow…won't we, _John._"

"Yes, Father, my _friend_ is correct…I was feeling sick today. I know I should have said something earlier, but _Nessan _was kind enough to try and do the work of two. I'm sorry_…_it won't happen again." Nessan said the words through gritted teeth, only because he was hungry and wanted to eat tonight.

Malen shook his head. "I don't know what is going on between the two of you…nor do I care. The brothers told me exactly what happened today, and, Mr Kolya while I commend you for your hard work, this order is built on the principles of brotherhood. So, until you can both learn to work together in mutual respect and co-operation, _neither_ of you will eat…as when one transgresses the other partner will also face the same punishment."

Sheppard was starving, but knew from the firm set of the monk's jaw there was no point in protesting any further, so turning from the table he decided to grab something to drink, and at least take advantage of an early night. Suddenly, out the corner of his eye, John was horrified to see Nessan lunge at the retreating figure of the monk. He tried to stop him… but was too late, as Malen fell to the ground with Kolya on top of him. Just as the Genii's fist was ready to strike, Sheppard saw it stop…mid-air, as Malen…his face set in an angry scowl, pushed his gun firmly against Nessan's chest.

"_**Get**_ up…you will _**pay**_ for this." Malen called to the assembled men, who, shocked at the outrage, were already on their feet. "Take them down to the cellar and prepare them for punishment. I will be there shortly."

John felt a multitude of strong arms grab his, and was unable to resist as his wrists were tightly bound together with rope.

"_**Wait**_ just a minute. What's with the _them_? It was **him** who attacked you, so why are you punishing me?"

"You are correct, Mr _Kolya…_and as unfair as it may seem, as I have just finished saying, you two are a partnership, and whatever punishment befalls him," He pointed to Nessan. "also befalls _you_…"

ooooOoooo

TBC

As a well known FF writer wrote recently "I'm not one to beg for feedback, because feeback is a choice and I know some people are uncomfortable with it. But remember, feedback is love it's an FF writers payment, it's motivation to write future stories, and it can also act as a guide for other readers uncertain if this is a story they want to read. So, if you like a story drop a line because even a 'I liked this' can go a long way."


	7. Chapter 7

Thank you for the reviews, they mean a lot and give me encouragement to keep writing. And thanks again, to my super speedy beta, shepsgirl 72. Of course all mistakes are mine.

COLLABORATIONS

CHAPTER 7

Sheppard was given no time to respond or even think, before the angry mob dragged him quickly out the room, along the darkened corridor and down the stairs into a large cellar, empty except for a few wine barrels stacked against a side wall. It smelt musty and had no windows, the only light provided by a single oil filled lantern, set into the middle of the long wall running the length of the room.

Along the centre of the ceiling were thick wooden beams, across one his captors flung two long lengths of rope before tying the ends first around Kolya's wrists then his, before pulling hard so both men could barely touch the ground. John swore as the tight, rough ropes bit into his wrists and his shoulders, stretched to their limits, ached under the strain.

Satisfied with their handiwork, content the men were no longer a threat, they left them hanging painfully from the beam, just as Malen walked into the room along with one of the armed monks from earlier in the day. In the gloom of the cellar, he could just about make out the young monk was carrying a small table upon which lay _something. _But as they approached, his heart thudded in his chest as he saw two daggers, each with six inch blades, and the most intricate handles John had ever seen…

"Well, _gentlemen_…I am truly sorry it has come to this. Delivering punishment gives me no pleasure, but I have always found pain to be a great leveller, and if this is what it takes to make you co-operate…then so be it. The excruciating pain as the dagger pierces your skin, and I run the blade slowly down your back will be bad enough…however, this is not just a punishment, but also a lesson in partnership and brotherhood."

"With him…_**never,**_" Kolya spat out at the monk, then turned and glared at Sheppard.

"Well…you might just change your mind about that, as one of the blades has been dipped in a slow acting poison. The potion used can be easily dissipated through proper cleaning of the wounds…something you gentlemen will need to do for yourselves. Although, I should tell you, if your wounds are not treated properly, then one of you will dead by morning."

Malen went over to the table as the young monk went behind them, ripping the tunics off their back.

"Five lines each I think, from shoulder to waist should serve as an adequate lesson." The monk looked at both men before picking up each dagger in turn, checking each blade was sharp, before placing them both upon the table. "Tell me, Brother Phailim…which dagger will I use first, and on whom? Whisper it to me, I don't want to spoil the _surprise._"

"_Excuse_ me, if we _really_ have to do this, can I get the one with the green handle? The red one clashes with my eyes." John smiled over, determined not to give the evil monk the satisfaction of seeing his fear.

"Quite the humorist, aren't you? Anyway the decision has been made…I suggest you prepare yourselves."

John's blood was pounding in his ears, his shoulders aching under the stain as Malen lifted the green dagger to walk behind him. Closing his eyes, mentally preparing himself for the pain to come, he heard Nessan hiss, as the monk pierced the Genii's skin before slowly guiding the razor sharp blade down Kolya's back.

Nessan grunted, as the monk finished the first long cut, only to raise the knife once more to begin yet another agonising slow decent. John heard Kolya's groans as again and again the knife cut into his tender flesh, but took no pleasure in his pain. That Nessan deserved to be punished for his crimes, there was no doubt. He wanted to be the one to bring him to justice…make him pay for the abuse he suffered at his hands, but to torture him like _this_ was never part of the plan.

Sheppard heard a low moan as the monk placed the bloody dagger upon the table, and saw Kolya turn to look at him…glazed eyes filled with pain, his dark hair slicked against his pale face. John watched Malen pick up the other dagger and his mouth went dry, knowing it was his turn next…

As the monk went to begin his punishment, John was sure he saw the ghost of a smile on Malen's lips.

"I thought you didn't take any pleasure in punishment, Father. Although, if you ask me, from what I just saw, you seemed to be enjoying yourself _way_ too much."

With a gleam in his eye, Malen replied. "Your imagination, I'm sure. But I will admit it does feel good to bring the disobedient to their knees…only then can they truly repent, and be led into the true spirit of brotherhood."

"Yeah…_right_. Hey, _chief_. Before you start carving me up…make sure that blade is nice and sharp. I don't want to be left with any ragged scars."

"Well, let me see."Malen slashed his body with the blade. "How does that feel?

John was stunned to see a long red line oozing blood down his chest…just before the pain hit.

"_**Gah… **_I…think…you've…made…your…_point_."

"My, my…still making jokes. I hope you're still laughing after I've finished."

Already in pain, John flinched as the sharp tip pierced firmly into his shoulder, making him gasp, as searing agony followed the dagger's slow, painful decent down to his waist. Reflectively jerking away, Sheppard felt Malen's left arm come around his chest to keep him still, while with his right… the blade struck again. He was shuddering, and every part of his body screamed… but he was unable to escape the merciless assault.

Sheppard swore through gritted teeth, but the sadistic monk, uncaring of his pain, continued the torture, focused in his task, as the blade tore his flesh apart in long, deep, bloody lacerations. The abuse was relentless, as again and again, the tip pieced into his skin, sending spikes of white-hot pain rippling down his back leaving him breathless, quivering, as trails of blood flowed freely onto the floor, pooling by his feet.

John felt sick, dizzy, in agony, when Malen let him go…relieved his torment was finally over. Then he screamed when the monk, a _holy_ man…a man of _peace_… slashed the sharp blade deeply across his wounds an extra time, sending him into convulsions, as eyes like stone caught his.

"_**Remember**_ this… for the next time you would _**dare**_ speak to me like that again." Malen threw the dagger onto the ground before glaring at John, then walked away.

He hung limply in a haze of pain, unable to speak, as their ropes were cut and both men fell hard onto the dirt floor. He could barely focus, but saw Nessan lying unconscious, as four of the followers arrived and dragged each of them to opposite ends of the cellar, before fitting a metal collar, attached to a long piece of chain anchored on the wall, around their necks.

As the men left the room, the young monk, Phailem, came in carrying a basin, cloths and a large earthenware tub, then set everything down in the middle of the room.

The monk addressed them both, now that Kolya was finally awake."This is for cleaning your wounds. I would suggest you both do this soon, and thoroughly…if not, one of you will not awaken to see another day."

Sheppard tried to force himself up, but fell groaning back onto the ground. Gritting his teeth he tried once more, managed to get onto his side, then taking a deep breath, made it onto his knees. The room swayed, and the movement spiked his pain, but as the world came back into focus, he slowly forced himself to where the basin…and salvation…lay. As he reached the middle, John realised he could go no further as the chain was taut. Then he began to understand…

"_**Kolya**_…_**Nessan.**_ Get over here if you want me to help you." But the Genii didn't move. "Well…didn't you hear the nice man? One of those blades was dipped in poison, and as he doesn't seem to be the kind of guy who would lie about something like that, the sooner we do this, the better."

"You would help me, Sheppard?" Kolya looked at John, surprised.

"Look, Nessan…just get over here before I pass out…_please._"

John felt Nessan tense, as he began the slow painful process of cleaning the bloody lacerations as thoroughly as possible. Once or twice, the Genii nearly keeled over, but eventually the job was done and he opened the jar, gagging at the pungent smell. Taking some of the ointment in his hand, he'd no sooner slavered it over Kolya's abused back when the Genii yelped, falling onto the floor.

"You okay, Kolya?" _Silly question John…neither of you is okay_.

Breathing hard, Nessan gradually made his way back onto his knees. "That was…unpleasant. It reminded me of the times after my father beat me with his belt. My mother used a salve similar to that…but perhaps not quite as painful."

Sheppard grew silent, remembering the brutal beating he suffered at Nessan's hands, which not only nearly took his life, but also could have ended his career.

"Well, it's my turn now, Nessan. Just do what you have to do."

Nessan was shocked to see the large laceration torn sideways across the other wounds, much deeper than the rest. "What…_why_?"

John grimaced, remembering the final excruciating, malicious slash of the blade. "I think the good father was pissed when I told him he was enjoying himself too much."

Kolya smiled. "I think you're right, he was…but never the less you do have that effect on people, Sheppard."

Sheppard sat tense, holding himself steady, waiting for the painful process to begin, when at the sound of shuffling he turned to find Kolya crawling back towards the opposite wall.

"_So_…no help for me, huh?"

"I'm sure a resourceful man like you will manage, Sheppard."

Picking up a clean cloth, John gritted his teeth as he tried to clean his own wounds. "The last time _some_ sadistic bastard cut me up, a nice lady did this for me." He stared pointedly at Nessan.

Nessan lay carefully down on his side, and watched Sheppard struggle, with no emotion on his face.

"I had intended Teresa to be mine…until you arrived. After you came, she was only interested in caring for your needs and barely looked at me."

Throwing the bloody cloth into the basin John looked in disbelief at Kolya. "You are one delusional son of a bitch, Nessan. It was you who brought me to the village in the first place, and the only reason Teresa took care of me was because _**you**_ _**beat**_ _**me**_ _**up!**_ Anyway…Teresa didn't like me in _that_ way…she was only grateful to me for killing her husband." John saw Nessan's stunned expression. "Yeah, go figure. Apparently he beat up Sirus, so she was glad the bastard was dead. I've never been thanked for killing anyone before, and I have to tell you, it felt kinda weird."

Sheppard knew he couldn't have cleaned his wounds properly, but just hoped his efforts would be enough. So grabbing the jar, he made his way over to his wall to lie down, before daring to put any on.

"You do know if I die, Kolya, Malen won't be too happy, since partnership, brotherhood…co-operation was all part of the lesson."

Nessan closed his eyes, shutting the sight of Sheppard out. "To have you finally dead, out of my life…I would put up with _any_ punishment."

After Nessan's reaction to the cream, John clamped his jaw…took some of the repugnant ointment on his hands and slapped it quickly onto his back. The fiery ointment sent spikes of white-hot pain burning through him, and he writhed in agony. He tried to continue, but his hands were shaking. With each passing second the pain increased, and became unbearable...he could hardly see… scarcely breathe, as the room started to spin, and he was sure he heard laughter as the world turned black.

ooooOoooo

The tension was palpable, as an enraged Rodney McKay glared at Caldwell across the wide, highly polished conference table.

"What do you mean we _can't_ search for Sheppard? I've compared the 'gate addresses to the list of visitors to the Genii home world the day he was abducted, and have narrowed the search down to four planets…_**Four**_…Give the three of us a jumper, or even just me…. and I'll go find him _**myself!**_"

"You're missing the point, Dr McKay." Caldwell tried not to sound aggravated. "The satellite over Sutran has detected a Wraith signature just one day away. We still don't know if it's a cruiser or a hiveship…or several hiveships for that matter, but we do know there are still 15,000 people left on the planet to be evacuated and even with the Daedalus…I don't have a jumper to spare."

"_**Excuse**_ me. What do you mean _**you**_ don't have a jumper to spare? Oh, I get it…you're still after Sheppard's job aren't you? This whole situation is giving you the perfect excuse not to mount a rescue…Well, Caldwell, you're not in charge of this base…Sheppard is, and you may as well enjoy playing military commander for now…because we're going to get him home…alive!"

_**Bang, bang.**_ Everyone turned to look at Mr Woolsey who thumped his folder on the table.

"Quite _enough_, Dr McKay. For the record, I am in charge of this base, and until I say otherwise, Colonel Sheppard is still the military commander here." Richard saw Rodney smirk at Caldwell. "However, Colonel Caldwell has been kind enough to stand in during this crisis, and he is correct, I have to consider the needs of people stranded on Sutran first. At least until you and Doctor Zelenka can calibrate the satellites to be more sensitive, to give us more precise information as to the size, and nature of the Wraith threat. Until then I have to presume the worst case scenario, so I regret to say your mission to rescue the colonel will have to wait."

Ronon jumped up. "And what if we don't want to wait? After everything Sheppard's done for Atlantis and you're just going to leave him to die? What kind of people are you?"

Woolsey faced the Satedan with a calm façade. "The kind of people, who just like colonel Sheppard, would not leave innocent people to die at the hands of the Wraith. I can't stop you leaving, Ronon…and I do hope you'll stay to help, but if any of the three of you attempts anything foolish…you _will_ be stopped. Major Lorne, please liaise with Colonel Caldwell regarding the evacuation…in the meantime this meeting is concluded."

Richard sighed as he watched Teyla rush after Ronon when he stormed out the room. It was at times like this he hated being in charge, having to make the difficult decisions. Especially as he suspected Dr McKay was right…Caldwell did look far too smug for his liking. Nevertheless, although he didn't pretend to know John as well as the rest, he did know one thing for sure. Sheppard would never want to be rescued at the expense of others…and Woolsey just hoped when things cooled down, his team would realise that, too.

ooooOoooo

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Thanks for the reviews. Thanks also to my fab beta, shepsgirl72...as always any mistakes are mine.

COLLABORATIONS

CHAPTER 8

Malen slowly climbed down the rough, stone steps to the cellar, curious to know what he would find.

Twenty-four hours had passed since he punished the visitors, and as his eyes adjusted to the gloomy interior he saw both men huddled on either side of the long room, lying perfectly still. As he stepped over the refreshments left by brother Phailem, Malen noticed they were barely touched, but the fact they were disturbed at all, was evidence at least one of the prisoners survived the ordeal.

Mr Sheppard was moaning slightly, his face pinched in pain, but the monk was pleased to see his wounds had been thoroughly cleaned, which was very fortunate, as his lacerations were caused by the poisoned dagger. When he placed his hands on the man's skin, Malen found it a little warm. No doubt, a slight temperature caused by the lingering after effects of both the punishment and the diluted poison in his bloodstream. Nevertheless, the monk knew if not for the other mans efforts he would have died, but now, not only would Sheppard survive, he should also be able to recover quite quickly

Even in the dimness of the cellar, it was clear the other man had not fared so well, as he was shivering, despite the room feeling uncomfortably warm. On closer examination, the monk found Mr Kolya's skin to be hot, his flushed, rosy cheeks clammy to the touch…indicative of a fever. Observing his back, he shook his head in disappointment, because the reason for his illness was all too apparent. While some of the lacerations looked reasonably clean, the deeper cuts had barely been touched, resulting in the wounds becoming infected. How this happened was all too apparent, as the evidence spoke for itself. While this man, Mr Kolya, had cleaned his partner's wounds first, Mr Sheppard in turn, had not assisted his partner, shamefully leaving the man to heal himself.

Malen was more than disappointed, he was angry. From the very beginning he'd guessed there was something going on between these men, _something_ more than what he'd been told. But regardless of their history, their deception, he'd still hoped they could learn to put aside their differences and work together in mutual respect and co-operation. Yet, despite their painful punishment, it was clear nothing had changed. Therefore, Malen was determined their lesson would continue, even if it meant a life was lost in the process. He took the empty metal basin and held it high above his head before dropping it hard, banging onto the sandstone floor, the resulting crash waking up both men to his presence.

"Good evening, gentlemen. Well, the fact neither of you is dead tells me _someone_ did their job, Mr Kolya, while you Mr Sheppard did not, resulting in your partner becoming quite ill."

Nessan looked at Sheppard in shock…aware he had saved his life. He glared at the monk. "Well, aren't you going to help him?"

"No, Mr Sheppard, it's your job as his partner to take care of him. However, if you fail to heal him and he dies, then you will also forfeit your life."

Nessan saw Sheppard smirk. "_**Fine…**_ release me from my chain, bring me fresh supplies and I will do as you ask."

"How very magnanimous of you, Mr Sheppard. I will most certainly have fresh supplies sent down, but neither of you will be released from your chains, therefore you must work together to achieve your goal."

Slamming his long chain against the ground, Nessan raged. "**How** am I expected to help him like this?

The monk smiled. "I am sure an intelligent man like you, a military commander, will find a way."

Kolya watched in panic as the door slammed shut, leaving them once more alone. "Sheppard, you're not really that sick, are you?"

John was seized by a bout of coughing. "Course not… I'm just _peachy_."

"Good, then come over here so I can get a look at you." Nessan watched as John tried to rise only to slump back down again.

"Maybe later, Kolya. I'm too tired and sore to move right now."

"_**Damn**_ it, man…get over here so I can help you. Didn't you hear him? If you die so do I."

Sheppard looked at Kolya through glazed eyes. "I'm touched by your _concern_. What happened to accepting any punishment, just to have me dead?"

"Look, _John_, forget about me for a minute. If you want your people to find you alive, then do it for yourself. I can see from here you don't look well, and if the infection gets any worse you soon won't be able to move at all…so get over here so I can help you!"

In the dim light, Nessan saw Sheppard struggling towards him, and was alarmed to see him shivering, despite the heat in the stuffy cellar. Worse still, his face was pale, white almost, except for two rosy circles on his cheeks...fever. He cringed when he saw the inflamed lacerations, especially that last deep cut, looking raw and angry, filled with yellow pus. Eventually, Sheppard came close enough to reach, and he stretched out his hand, took hold of his enemy's arm, and dragged the Lantian beside him, just as the door creaked open to reveal brother Frama, laden with blankets and fresh supplies.

Nessan saw the old monk hurry down to Sheppard, with a concerned look clearly visible in his wrinkled features. Through the other men, he knew John had worked with Brother Frama in the kitchens, but although he'd never spoken about his stint there, it was clear the old man liked John, and was deeply worried, angry even, about his condition. Not for the first time, Kolya couldn't believe the way people were attracted to the Lantian, just like moths to a flame, or bees to the fragrant flowers in the field. And, as this proved, it wasn't just the women who were drawn to the man, as other men also, as in Frama's case, held him in admiration and respect. While this irritated him no end, in this particular instance it would work to his advantage, because the old man obviously cared about Sheppard, and he hoped with his help, the pilot would recover.

After he laid the basin, cloths, ointment and blankets on the floor, brother Frama placed his hand upon John's head. "You're burning up, young man…_You_" he looked now at Nessan, "place these blankets on the ground and help me get him onto them. Now, take this cloth and clean these wounds thoroughly, then put on the ointment, making sure it goes deep into the lacerations. I must leave now, but will return with something to help bring down the fever."

Sheppard's dark spiky hair lay soaked, flat against his white face. But Nessan saw him turn to smile at his friend. "Hi, Brother Frama" he said while the coughing took hold of him again. "Thank you for helping me, but can't I have one of those on top? I'm freezing, it's so damn cold down here."

Frama grew alarmed, knowing the airless room felt oppressively warm. "I'm sorry my, son, but it's cooling down you need, not a blanket. Let your partner help you, and I will see what I can do about bringing down your fever when I return."

Kolya saw the old monk struggle to rise on limbs ravaged by age, and make his way out of the cellar. Then taking the cloth, he soaked it in the warm water, and began the painful task. Sheppard flinched as the cloth, now blood red, grated against his ragged, infected skin and Nessan felt him shudder, as he meticulously cleaned each of the cuts, one at a time. It was strange. He normally enjoyed causing the man pain, but this time, knowing Sheppard had saved his life, it didn't give him the pleasure it normally did. Instead, it made him feel vaguely uncomfortable.

Beads of sweat were falling down his face, and the Lantian was obviously suffering. "Look, Sheppard. This is going to take a while, and I know from experience how painful this feels. So why don't you try to sleep…or _something_."

He saw Sheppard's eyes glaze over and start to shut. "Sounds… like… a… gd… ida..."

Kolya shook his head and couldn't help but smile…as the military man even fainted to order. Yet, as he continued to clean the wounds as best he could, Nessan felt anxious at the heat rising from Sheppard's clammy skin, and worried, hoping his help hadn't come too little, too late. By the time he was finished, satisfied he had done all he could, Nessan was exhausted. Weakened by his own injuries, he felt too tired to move back to his own side, so lay where he was, next to his nemesis, and promptly fell asleep.

ooooOoooo

There was no night or day in the cellar, only the soft light of the oil lantern breaking the darkness, as Kolya awoke to the delirious ramblings of the man by his side. Sheppard was arguing with someone, his father? Over something or someone called 'Stanford.' From the look on his face, he was distressed, angry even. But after a moment he became deathly still, silent… until his body started to shake, writhing in pain.

Nessan's back ached, but otherwise he felt better, where as Sheppard looked worse than before; burning up, shivering violently, and completely unresponsive to all his attempts to wake him. As Kolya struggled to rise, he saw fresh refreshments had been left while he slept, so, feeling hungry for the first time since his ordeal began, he helped himself to the now, cold meat stew, then drank a long cooling drink from the jug of water. Then, after he was finished, he took the remainder of the water over to his companion.

Holding Sheppard's head steady, he forced some of the water down the sick man's throat, and with the rest bathed his clammy skin. The Lantian had deteriorated so quickly it shocked him, and it was clear without medical attention soon, he may get his wish…Sheppard could soon be dead. For years all he wanted was to catch the man, who took the life of his brother, and to make him pay with his life. But as he watched John shuddering, victim to the raging fever wracking his body, it stunned him to realise, now that his wish could be granted, it gave him no pleasure.

Kolya couldn't understand it, but John Sheppard, unaware of which blade was tainted with poison, had chosen to help him first, saving his life in the process. It just didn't make any sense. Surely the Lantian must have realised he wouldn't return the favour, so _why_ did he offer to help him first?

When he abducted Sheppard over a year ago, Nessan knew he had shown the Lantian no mercy…placing him first in a mask within a soulless prison. Then, treating him worse than an animal before eventually brutally beating him nearly to death…with his father's belt. However, this man, who must despise him for what he'd done, had put aside his hatred, and put _his_ needs, _his_ welfare before his own…_Why_? No one, not even his own family ever showed him this kind of compassion…or any consideration even. And now, because of that choice, he could lose his life…

Nessan wanted the Lantian dead, but not like this, and especially _not_ while he was in his debt. Malen had made it clear if Sheppard died then so would he, but for once in his life Kolya didn't care about himself. He _needed_ John Sheppard to survive as he didn't want to be beholden to any man, especially not him.

Slowly, painfully, rising to his feet, Nessan took the long chain in his hand and banged it hard against the ground, again and again, trying desperately to get someone's attention…but no one came. He continued his tirade, banging the chain, shouting for help at the top of his voice, until he fell weak, and exhausted to his knees. Just when he thought it was a lost cause, he heard the old wooden door creak open, revealing father Malen, accompanied by brother Frama, standing in the open doorway.

ooooOoooo

If Malen was shocked at Mr Kolya's deterioration, he didn't show it, but grudgingly admitted that Frama, the kind-hearted old fool, was right. He'd told him Mr Kolya would die if he wasn't removed from the oppressively hot cellar, and given the care he needed. Then, the monk had practically begged to be allowed to help him. Malen looked down upon the two men in front of him, one dying, the other desperate, and decided he may relent after all. From what he could tell, it seemed as though Mr Sheppard had finally learned his lesson. His cries for help apparently out of genuine concern for his partner, rather than the dire consequences he would face if the other man died.

Nessan struggled to his feet, and pleaded with the approaching Malen. "Thank you for coming, Father Malen. _Please_…help him. A fever is raging through him. I have done what I can, but without proper care he will die."

While he watched Frama go down to tend to the sick man, the senior monk made his decision.

"Well, I am pleased to see you have finally learned your lesson, Mr Sheppard, and are beginning to embrace the true spirit of brotherhood. I am not without mercy, so therefore, I will arrange for you to be taken to the infirmary, where you will both receive the care you need. In the meantime, however, I will still expect you to be your partner's primary carer until he recovers."

Malen saw relief flood Sheppard's face. The same face that only yesterday was ugly with hate…for him and the man lying unconscious on the floor. Even as he searched the dark, fathomless eyes smiling back at him, he wondered if this man could really have changed…so much…so soon?

ooooOoooo

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Thanks to those who have left reviews and for all of you who continue to follow the story. Thanks again, to my fab beta, shepsgirl72 - as always, all mistakes are mine.

COLLABORATIONS

CHAPTER 9

Dusk was fast approaching on the makeshift settlement, as the last rays of the sun streamed down on the myriad of tents scattered below, bathing them in a golden hue. The large man picked his way carefully along the narrow passageways in-between the canvas homes, mindful of the campfires burning brightly around every bend. Some held large cast iron caldrons wafting tantalising smells of tonight's supper, reminding Ronon his last meal had been many hours ago. But food would have to wait, as the tiny fingers grasped tightly around his neck, pulling his hair, were a constant reminder he must find this child's kin, before nightfall came, bringing its inky blackness to hinder his task.

Miles of tents, housing thousands of people, stretched out as far as the eye could see. Evidence the satellites had done their job, saving these lucky survivors from certain death, but success however...came at a price. Atlantis was struggling to cope, with both food and water growing short, and people, who only days before were happy to be alive, were now becoming resentful at the enforced rationing. Ronon felt intolerant of their ingratitude, their frustration, as he knew they were the lucky ones. Many had been left behind, and were probably dead by now, victims of the Wraith whom Atlantis had been unable to save.

"Shuma…is that _**you**_?" A young dark haired woman, her anxious face streaked with tears, lunged at Ronon ripping the child, her mother's image…from his arms.

Happy to see his charge safe, crying in her mother's arms, he started the long walk back to the 'gate, where home, a hot shower, and supper would be waiting. Ronon wondered when he first started thinking of Atlantis as home, and remembered back to the time he arrived in the Ancient city nearly five years ago. Then, he had been content to rest and recover from all the years of running, but looking back, if he was honest, he'd never intended to stay. Then Sheppard, had made him an offer, one he couldn't refuse…stay in Atlantis, help them fight the Wraith, and before he knew it he a purpose, friends, a home, and now Ronon couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

Sateda was gone, his loved ones dead along with the planet where he grew up, and he would never forget them…ever. But in Atlantis, he was part of something important, the galaxy's last best hope against the Wraith. A place where he had people, his _family_, who watched his back just as he did theirs. Even McKay, who was pretending not to wait for him, as he leant against the DHD.

"I take it you got the kid home?"

"Yup…"

"After what you did to rescue her, I hope they at least said 'thanks'."

Ronon regarded his teammate hunched against the DHD. McKay could be a pain in the ass at times, but he'd worked as hard as any of them, and the guy looked as tired as he felt.

"I didn't stay...seeing her back with her mother was good enough."

"**Ronon**…you nearly lost your life going back for that kid. If it hadn't been me flying the jumper, I don't know if any of those other part-time pilots would have waited!"

"Well, McKay…you shouldn't have. The Wraith had arrived, and we only got out by the skin of our teeth. If Sheppard had been there…" Ronon saw Rodney's face crumple. "Look, McKay, it _doesn't_ matter, we saved her, along with the others, and we made it. Now dial the gate…we're both beat and I for one just want to go home."

Ronon thought Rodney was going to say something else, but he turned instead to the DHD, dialled in the symbols, and in an instant the bright blue of the event horizon sprang into life, leading them home.

In Atlantis 'gate room was the next shift heading for the Alpha site, laden with more supplies, mainly food and water, to supplement the scant provisions survivors had managed to bring themselves. Ronon saw Beckett standing there, on his way to relieve Dr Cole, as healing the injured was just as important as feeding the hungry. Many of the wounded suffered minor injuries in their flight to free the Wraith. Others though hadn't been as lucky, with broken bones common, a result of last minute panic as desperate people scared they would be left behind, didn't care who they ran over to get to safety. Fortunately those were the most serious injuries, but even the usual ailments, coughs and colds, were all dealt with, the doctors also using the opportunity to vaccinate as many children as possible, while they had the chance.

As he walked with McKay along the quiet corridors, he felt proud of the place he now called home. Since the alarm had gone off over Sutran, the next satellite went on alert then the next, leaving three planets, with nearly 40,000 people, to be evacuated. The other allies had taken as many of the refugees as they could, but Atlantis took the majority, and everyone on base was needed to help. Roles were forgotten as scientists worked alongside raw recruits and cleaners…even Woolsey took his turn in the soup kitchen, each person just wanting to help the frightened people survive, until it was safe to return to their homes.

Ronon felt a tap on his arm. "Ronon. Would you mind if I checked on the lab?"

Dex saw McKay go over to his workbench, blow the dust of his laptop and turn it on. He knew what his friend was doing, checking the last thing he had been working on before all hell broke loose…finding Sheppard.

"We'll find him, McKay…but as much as I hate to admit it, Woolsey was right, we have to save as many people as we can…it's what Sheppard would want."

Eyes bright with unshed tears caught his. "Yeah, I know it. But I don't have to like it. What if we don't get to him in time, Ronon…what if we're already too late?"

"The man's was born with nine lives, McKay…reckon he still has a few left." He put his hand on Rodney's shoulder. "What do you say I sweet talk Mable into making us some of her hot chocolate?"

ooooOoooo

"Nnnnghnn…Gah!"

"Easy, Sheppard…Try not to move, you have a nasty infection in your back." Nessan saw the strained lines on the pale, gaunt face, slicked with sweat, and poured some water into a glass.

John knew he wasn't in Atlantis; there was no soft beep of monitors or any invasive tubes. Nor was there any IV delivering pain relief, and as he groaned, in agony, he missed the kindly Scottish doctor who wouldn't have allowed him to be in this much pain. But who belonged to _that_ voice? It was familiar, someone he knew, but it sounded _different_ somehow. Opening his dry, gritty eyes he grew alarmed as he stared right into the dark brown orbs of Nessan Kolya.

"Right, Sheppard. Just a few sips, I don't think either of us wants you bringing it back up again."

John thought he must still be dreaming…no, make that a nightmare, as Kolya raised his head and held the glass to his lips. His head was pounding, every part of him ached, and he felt so bad that if crap married shit, he would have been their lovechild. Even to his foggy brain, he knew _that_ made no sense, but neither did the fact Kolya was standing over him looking concerned. Creeped out as he was by the whole situation, Sheppard realised he was completely at Nessan's mercy, too beat up and too sick to argue. But he had to admit the guy was surprisingly gentle, and the cool water did feel wonderful against his parched throat.

"That's enough for now" Kolya put down the glass, took a damp cloth from the metal basin set on a low wooden table by the bed, and began mopping John's face and torso. "There…does that feel better?"

Sheppard nodded, too shocked to speak.

Nessan smiled. "Good. You've been very ill for quite some time, but your fever broke last night, so I think you're finally on the mend." Kolya pulled up a chair and began to talk.

"I used to take care of my mother when she got sick. I was only a child…six years old…but there was no one else. The local healer would come in once a day, but only stayed long enough to leave more medicine. The rest of the time it was just the two of us. When she was feeling better, mother would sing to me as I cooked and cleaned, sometimes telling me the most wonderful stories of her childhood. The village where she grew up, her wonderful parents and twin sister. It sounded so perfect, and probably was…before the Wraith culled her village along with her family. She knew the townspeople despised her for loving my father, bringing me, his bastard, into the world. But despite what they thought, my mother wasn't a prostitute, and wasn't interested in money. Mother loved my father with a passion, but felt guilty about being the other woman, and was never comfortable about his insistence on providing for us, taking money away from his own family. Looking back, even though she was sick, those were the happiest days of my life, because it was just the two of us alone, against the world. After she died, for a very long time I felt responsible for her death, blamed myself for not providing the care she needed…which I know now is nonsense, because I was only a child, however, her death did haunt me for many years."

"Fath…r?" John croaked.

"As soon as mother became ill he didn't want to know. Oh, he left money for provisions and paid the healer for her services, but we never saw him again until after her death, when the elder in the village made him come and take me away to live with him."

"S…ry"

"Don't be, Sheppard. None of it was your fault." Dumping the cloth in the basin, he turned and looked John in the eye. "I know you don't trust me, I really haven't given you a reason to, have I? But it's been me who has cared for you these past days, and will continue to do so, until you are quite well again. So rest easy…I am not going to harm you."

John couldn't believe what he was hearing. Kolya, the man who had tried to kill him, and wouldn't stop until he was dead, had been caring for him. Why? He stared back at his nemesis in disbelief, wondering when the Genii would return to form and kill him…just as he'd promised.

Nessan saw John's suspicious look. "Remember what the monk said? 'If he dies so do you.' So, as you can imagine, Sheppard, it's in my best interests to keep you alive." Kolya saw Sheppard's flushed face start to relax. "Now, Brother Frama left some medicine to help ease the pain."

He poured some yellow liquid from a small, green smoke glass bottle, and again raised John's head to help him sip the contents from a spoon. "Good. Now I will leave you to rest, and come back later with some of the broth Frama is making especially for you. I think you've made a friend there, Sheppard."

John watched Nessan as he tucked the covers around his neck, before closing the curtains against the bright sunlight streaming into the room. As the Genii went to leave, he saw him turn and look at him once more. Relief was clearly visible on his features, no doubt because in his recovery, Nessan's life would also be spared. As Kolya left, closing the old wooden door softly behind him, John felt himself finally starting to relax. The pain was gradually starting to ease down a notch, leaving him achy, but nothing he couldn't handle. He still felt crap, washed out and sore, but with Nessan away, he reckoned he could sleep.

As his eyes closed, John ran over in his mind everything Kolya told him. Most of what Nessan spoke of he already knew...his mother dying young, leaving her child to be cared for by his father, a man who didn't want him. But it wasn't just what he said, or the thought of the sad little boy caring for his mother…it was the _way_ in which he had said it. For the first time ever, Nessan had spoken without aggression or malice hidden within those dark eyes. It actually appeared the sadistic Genii seemed to have another side…one he guessed not many, if any, had ever seen.

Sheppard started to laugh when he thought of the old joke…'Who was that man, and what has he done with Nessan Kolya?' but groaned instead, and not just because it was a _very_ bad joke. Opening his eyes he searched the room, but found it empty, with only the pale yellow curtains fluttering in the breeze from the open window. Was any of it real? Did any of the conversation with Nessan actually happen? Or could it be he was actually still unconscious, and the last few crazy minutes were the result of a weird, fever induced hallucination? One thing was for sure, right now John felt like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz. The yellow brick road was stretching ahead of him without the help of the lion, the tin man or the scarecrow…and boy, did he want back to go back home to Atlantis.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

Thanks for the reviews, they really encourage me to keep writing. Thanks again to my beta shepsgirl72, you really are a star!

Well, has Nessan changed? Can the bad guy have turned good? The answer will be shortly be revealed...

COLLABORATIONS

CHAPTER 10

The half-empty bowl of stew lay congealed in the bowl, discarded on the tray alongside most of the bread. Only the jug of water was empty, the remaining liquid left in the glass, which sat upon the table beside Sheppard's pale, gaunt figure dozing peacefully on top of the bed.

Nessan sat heavily onto the slated chair where he'd spent many nights caring for his nemesis through the worst of the fever. His back ached after picking potatoes all day, and he was exhausted by the long hours working in the field. However, in a strange way, Kolya quite enjoyed being back at work, as the warm rays of the sun felt good against his skin, and the fresh air a welcome relief after so long spend cooped up in this stuffy little room. He was also happy to be finally freed of his task as carer, because although traces of the sickness still lingered, Sheppard was now almost fully recovered.

The monastery was preparing for the Festival of the Chosen, and there was an unusual air of excitement about the place. Even the faithful, who only ever seemed to work and eat, saying little beyond 'please' or 'thank you' had begun to chat, smile even, with the main topic always the same…who would be lucky enough to be chosen to serve. If it wasn't for the festival, Malen would probably have made him stay, and continue to take care of his _brother._ However, the proceedings were due to start tomorrow and all the able bodied men, including most of the monks, were needed to bring in the remainder of the harvest before the selection ritual took place in three days time.

Hearing the bed creak as its occupant stirred, Nessan saw Sheppard's sleepy hazel eyes start to open.

"You know, Sheppard, how do you expect to recover when you don't eat enough? Brother Frama will be hurt when he sees what you've left."

After caring for the man for days, Nessan could now read Sheppard like a book. Unlike most people, Sheppard always made light of his symptoms, said he felt _good_, when he obviously wasn't, and the grimace he quickly tried to hide, told him he must still be suffering from headaches, due to the low-grade fever, which despite Brother Frama's best efforts, still continued to linger.

"So, Nessan, why the visit…did you miss me today?" John yawned, as he propped himself up against the pillows.

"I just wanted to check up on you. Make sure Frama was keeping up my good work…and you hadn't escaped without me. By the way, where has your team got to anyway?"

Sheppard held his gaze, defiant. "Don't know. Something serious must have happened, otherwise they would have been here by now. But they'll come…we never leave a man behind."

Kolya smirked. "Does that include me?"

"Of course. But as they've obviously been held up, what do you say we work on our _own_ escape plan…just in case. Actually, Nessan, if you think about it, you might prefer that idea, because if they come first I would have to arrest you, and you'd spend, oh, the next ten years or so in our brig. But if we work together and reach the gate ourselves, I'd let you have a get out of jail free card, and you could dial any address you want, go your own way, make a fresh start." John saw Nessan look interested. "We both know there's more to you than someone who's handy with a belt. I honestly believe in a new place, where no one knows your past, anything could be possible…a new life…maybe even a family. There's only one condition. I want my dog tags back…and my name. If you want another identity, there are plenty of other names to choose from…how about Kavanagh for example? Nessan Kavanagh…now don't you think that has a nice ring to it?"

"You are a surprising man, John. Why after everything I've done would you save my life and let me go?"

John turned around and pushed his legs over the side of the bed, so he could look Nessan in the eye.

"I believe there's no such thing as black and white…only shades of grey, I also believe in second chances." He smiled when he remembered Elizabeth Weir. "A nice lady give me a break once…it may not have saved my life, but it sure as hell gave me a better one. I figure with a second chance you could give up being the bad guy and start again. As for forgiving you…I don't know if I can, but if my team don't come in time, I'll settle for never seeing you again. Just one thing…exactly when and _how_ for that matter, did I save your life? Was I out of it so long I missed something?"

Nessan looked at John, surprised he didn't remember. "When we were lying in the cellar, after the punishment, you didn't know who got cut with the poisoned knife, yet you chose to help me first…why?"

"_Honestly_, I don't know. It just seemed the right thing to do…and I really _did_ expect you to return the favour." John grimaced just thinking about it.

"Did you really...after our history? I think you were deluding yourself. But no matter, just as there is inherent goodness in you, Sheppard, there is darkness in me. I'm not sure if I can change, but I appreciate the offer and after what we've been through, if we do make it to the Ancestral Ring, I think we'll what is it you say?…call it quits. Because as much as I was happy to take your name, I _never_ want to see you again either. As for an escape plan, I think I may have already found a way out for both of us."

"_Really_…Okay, spill the beans…what is it?"

Nessan smiled. "Malen was waiting for me when I came back today. He was actually pleasant for once, and took me into his private chambers, poured me a glass of wine, then opened a cabinet which held a lot of old metal bits and pieces."

John could feel the hairs standing up at the back of his neck…guessing what Kolya was going to say next.

"Anyway, apparently when those bastard daggers were put away, the young monk forgot to clean them. When he finally remembered to do it, as he lifted them, some of the blood fell onto one of the bits of scrap making it glow. He was too frightened to tell his boss he'd forget to do his duty, so the young fool washed the daggers clean first, then told him, so now Malen can't be sure which one of us has the _gift. _I know it's not me, Sheppard, and since you told me you were the only one who could pilot that craft, it all makes sense. But, as far as the good father is concerned, as he believes I'm the pilot of the craft he assumes it was me, and wants _my_ help awakening the rest of them."

"I told him I would only consider it if my partner could come with me, and on the condition that once the job was done, he let both of us go afterwards. Anyway, he agreed. Well…what do you say? I know you're not fully fit, but as there's no manual work involved, plus there's no more than twenty pieces, it shouldn't take you more than a couple of days."

Sheppard got up, walked over to the window and looked out into the courtyard below. After what Kolya had told him, he knew there was no point in denying his _gift._

"No, Nessan. Some of those _bits and pieces_ are dangerous. I don't know until I activate something what it does, and I don't want any potential weapons falling into their hands."

"Why do you care, Sheppard? It's our way out of here… in any case, most of them look broken."

"I said _no._ Look, Nessan, I want to escape as much as you…more maybe, because I think my people are in trouble. But I'm not going to do it at the expense of giving these people, who we know so little about, and who carved us up like a freaking turkey dinner, a potential weapon. We can escape working together, but I'm going to pass on this…_sorry_."

Kolya stormed up to John, grabbed his tunic and raged into his face. "_**Sorry**_! I give you the best chance we have of escaping, and all you have to say is _sorry? _If you don't agree to help me, Sheppard I'm just going to have to find another way to get the job done…and I know you don't like my methods."

Sheppard removed Nessan's hands and threw them down. "Don't you ever think about anyone apart from yourself? I'm no angel, Kolya…I've made mistakes, killed a lot of people, but _**never**_ done anything out of self-interest. You wanted to change your life by taking my name…_**fine.**_ But change only happens when you start thinking with your heart, and not just your head. Until you learn to deal with your past, and stop punishing others because of what others did to you, you'll never have a future, trust me…I _know_."

"Why should I? No one ever thought about me, so tell me, _**John**_…why should I care about anyone else?"

John sat on the bed, and looked up to see the all too familiar rage on Nessan's face. "What happened to you as a kid, how you were treated…was all wrong. But do you know something…that was _their_ loss. There's more to you, Nessan, than a man with a bad attitude. I got to see it when you took care of me.…Deep inside of you is a caring, thoughtful man, and if you just let him loose a little more often, you could change your life. As my mom used to say, it's only when you consider the needs of others you actually help yourself."

"Oh, _my_…how _sweet_." Nessan sneered. "Hear this, Sheppard. I'm going to leave you now to shower, get changed and have something to eat. Malen told me he wants my decision by the morning…and that's exactly how long you have to change your mind…"

ooooOoooo

The manacles dug into his wrists, and the rough-hewn wooden pole scraped painfully against the laceration on his chest, as the monk's pulled the metal chains taut, so his arms were stretched to their limits high above his head and his feet dangled from the ground.

When he was pulled half asleep from bed this morning, John knew Nessan had made good on this threat, but of all the things he was expecting…a whipping didn't even make the top ten. It was barely even an hour ago when Malen told him that, due to the continued absence of their leader, the order had made a decision on his fate. He was to join the faithful, but in order to be worthy of service, due to his violent tendencies, he must first be cleansed of the evil within, so would receive ten lashes to purify his spirit.

Of course, Sheppard knew what the whipping was _really_ about…Kolya found out his blood activated the ancient tech, so the sneaky bastard had obviously persuaded Malen to whip him, in exchange for his co-operation. However, what the Genii didn't know was although his blood may make it glow for a second…the tech wouldn't keep working unless he physically held it long enough for the piece to be initialised. Trouble was, if he told the monk the truth, Malen would know he was the one with the gene, and as he wasn't about to do what he wanted, the more John realised he would probably still be where he was right now…about to be punished.

As he felt the tunic ripped open, exposing his back to the cool morning air, John knew this wasn't going to be pleasant…Thick bands of leather hitting hard against your body never was…but on top of the previous lacerations, which were scarcely healed, this was _really_ going to hurt. But instead of feeling afraid, he just felt really, _really_ angry. Angry at himself for being so stupid to believe Nessan could change…angry because this wasn't the first time he'd given a _Kolya_ a second chance. He remembered the siege of Atlantis when he could so easily have put a bullet through Acastus head as he held Elizabeth close to his chest. It would have been a simpler shot…but no…he just had to take the trickier target, winging the Genii commander, leaving him alive to mess up his life time and time again.

But as he saw Malen come forward in front of the assembled faithful to read out the punishment, Sheppard took slow steady breaths and looked straight ahead to the fields beyond, hoping that giving himself something to focus on would somehow lessen the pain.

"We are here this morning to welcome a new brother amongst us. However, in order to rid him of his previous transgressions and make him worthy of service, he must first be baptised by blood and fire. As you watch his pain, hear his cries of anguish…rejoice in them with me, knowing it is only through cleansing his spirit, can he join in union with you…his brothers."

At the sound of the word 'Fire.' John turned his head and saw the largest man he'd ever seen leave the ranks of the faithful, to approach him with a clear glass bottle in his hand.

"I baptise you my brother with the flames of redemption. Embrace your pain, for in it lies salvation. "John's heart started to race as he recognised the all too familiar smell of the liquid poured over his back, stinging his wounds…neat alcohol.

Not really wanting to see what was coming next, but unable to stop himself, Sheppard craned his head just in time to see the same man don a pair of long chain mail gloves, before plunging a long, thick, braided leather whip into a large urn. When it came out he saw there were four long strands of frayed, knotted cord attached to the end. John continued to watch, his heart hammering in his chest, as he watched the whip being shaken out, and each piece of cord separated and straightened by the man's strong hands before individually being set alight.

As he turned away, John could hardly hear for the sound of blood rushing through his ears, his throat suddenly dry at the thought of the torture to come. He could feel the heat from the flames as the man practised his technique, swirling the whip through the air, and flinched as the sparks stung his skin. His back was already aching when he heard the soft whisper of ripping flesh, felt the slick wetness of fresh blood where the barely healed lacerations split open under the strain. Already in pain, he knew there was worse to come, and come it did, as the stiff band of leather whooshed, gave an almighty _**crack,**_ and hit hard…across his back. John gasped in agony, too shocked to scream, as the whip tore four long ripples of burning flames across his tender skin… blazing deep into his wounds

The next lash followed quickly, harder than the first, ripping him apart with its fiery bite… making him gag with the rancid smell of his own burning flesh. On and on the brutal assault continued, relentless and merciless, each lash tearing, searing into his skin, ripping him apart…making him groan. Tears, blinded him, as each fierce strike made him quiver, the excruciating pain of the whip made unbearable by the scorching flames rippling across his skin. He could scarcely breathe as the last vicious lash tore an agonised cry from his throat, and his body slumped against the pole, unable any longer to withstand the sadistic assault.

Shrouded in pain, barely able to focus, Sheppard was barely aware of Malen coming towards him raising his hand signalling the punishment to stop. But his agony continued, relentless in its persecution, as the flames smouldered on deep within the ragged lacerations, sending convulsions up and down his spine. He couldn't speak as he was lifted down, could barely see as his vision started to fade, but there was _something_ he could hear the distance…and it was _very_ familiar.

ooooOoooo

TBC...Well, the question about Nessan has been answered. Hope you enjoyed the whump...and please review.


	11. Chapter 11

Thanks for the reviews, and I hope you enjoyed the whump! - Thanks to all who are still following the story and of course shepsgirl72, my speedy beta. Of course, all mistakes are mine.

COLLABORATIONS

CHAPTER 11

Nessan suppressed a cringe at the sight of Sheppard's raw, mutilated flesh, but not out of sympathy for the wounded man. It was for himself, for his plan had come to nothing, burned in the flames that also tore across the skin of the man carried from the pole. He enjoyed watching the Lantian being placed in shackles, and had looked forward to the naïve fool being whipped, a fitting punishment for being so stupid as to turn against him, and their best chance of escape. But panic seized his throat when he saw the whip set alight, realising the burning cords would cauterise each laceration cut into Sheppard's skin, leaving no blood trail behind, and therefore no means for him to activate the dormant relics that would buy his freedom.

Malen stopped the two monks who were carrying the unconscious John back into the monastery. "Take him to the infirmary and see to his wounds…but not his pain." Smiling at Nessan as the small party went inside. "This _was_ a punishment after all. Well, Mr Sheppard, I believe we have relics to inspect?"

"May I check on my prisoner first? All Nessan needed was just a little blood...

The monk turned to look at Nessan, suspicion in his gaze. "_Why_? The man has succumbed to his punishment. Even you would not be so lacking in compassion as to awake him to his pain this soon."

"No, of course not. It's just the punishment was more brutal than I expected…will he survive?"

Malen shrugged. "I don't see why not. He is young and strong, the flames prevent weakening blood loss and the brothers will keep him free from infection." Malen turned to whisper to Nessan "and despite my instructions, they will most likely give him some small relief for the pain. Now, I have been more than patient, so let us not delay any further. I have carried out my part of the arrangement and delivered the punishment you requested, so it is time for you to carry out your part of the bargain."

"Are you not staying to welcome me, Father?" a voice boomed from behind them.

Kolya stepped back, terrified…as three large Wraith came walking towards them

The monks face broke into a smile, as he recognised the tall, fierce creature with the wild, white hair blowing in the breeze.

"Father Confessor! How good it is to see you… but I wasn't expecting you for another two days."

"Yes, you are correct, Father Malen_._ I was due to come then, however unfortunately, we must bring forward the selection ceremony to tomorrow…I trust that will not be a problem?" Malen shook his head. "_Excellent_, I will leave you to inform the faithful and make the arrangements."

"Of course, Father, whatever you wish. But what of the feast? Your flock have been looking forward to it…a reward for their hard work and devoted service."

The Wraith gave a sinister smile. "Of course…but I'm sure you will be able to arrange it for this evening…_**won't**_ you?"He turned toward Nessan. "Aren't you going to introduce me to this…_gentleman?_"

"Please forgive my manners, Father." Malen placed a firm grip on Kolyas shoulder. "Let me introduce you to Mr John Sheppard. He and another man were rescued from a crashed ship of Ancient design by one of our trading parties a few weeks ago. In fact, he was just about to reawaken some Ancient relics for me." The monk smiled at the Wraith. "I wanted to surprise you. For many years, I have collected relics, in the hope that one day I would meet someone with this ability, so I could finally give them to you as a gift."

Nessan felt himself start to sweat, and his eyes grew wide, as it was becoming clearer every minute just how much trouble he was in.

"_Really_…That is very generous of you, Father, and you too Mr Sheppard for offering your services. I would very much like to watch while you do that, but in the meantime, where is the other man? I would like to meet him."

"He is in the infirmary, Father. It was necessary to have him punished…to purify his soul…before he could join with the rest of your flock. I apologise for not waiting for your approval, but with the Festival so close, I didn't think you would mind."

Todd turned to glare at Malen. "I really do not understand your need for mindless violence, Father Malen. You are aware I need those faithful to the Wraith strong and healthy for selection. Still, it is done now, and as a new addition of my flock I wish to see him…to find out if there is any way he will still be able to serve."

ooooOoooo

Waves of searing heat raged through him, leaving him breathless, feeling sick…in agony. Each small movement sending fresh spikes of pain coursing through his body.

The monk who cleaned his wounds chose not to ease his suffering. Without pain relief, he lay in torment, prostrate on the bed, and wondered not for the first time, what so called _religious_ order would devise such cruel, sadistic punishments. John desperately wanted to sleep, escape the intense searing pain for even a short time, but blessed oblivion wouldn't come, as each small shallow breath reawakened his agony, preventing even that temporary relief. He wanted to kill Kolya for having engineered his whipping, and if he ever managed to get out of bed...he would do just that. There would be no more chances…no mercy for him now.

"My, my, Sheppard…you do have a talent for getting into trouble…don't you?"

John groaned as he turned and saw Todd standing in the doorway. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing, Sheppard. However, as you are obviously in pain I will not torment you further. Let's just say, I am the Father Confessor of this Monastery, and the faithful who you have just joined…are my flock."

"_**Wraith**_ worshippers…Well, that explains a lot. But for the record, joining your flock wasn't exactly my idea."

Todd laughed. "Now there is a _surprise_. The good Father Malen told me you were rescued from your craft, but who is the imposter who has taken your name?

Beads of sweat ran down his face as John tried not to scream in pain... especially not in front of the Wraith. "Nessan Kolya, half brother of the _nice_ man whose hospitality we both enjoyed."

"Ah…I thought he looked familiar. He looks very like him. Same eyes, and do I take it the same unfortunate disposition?"

"_**Gah... **_How did you guess?" John groaned.

He gripped the bed sheet tightly in his fists, struggling to maintain control, as the burning pain rippling across his back sent him into convulsions,

"The _**bastard**_ wants me dead for killing his brother, but he also wants my identity…stole my dog tags while I was unconscious." Sheppard saw Todd look confused. "Thinks being me will give him a better life…just like the _great_ time I'm having right now…_**Aghh**_…_**mmph**_."

Todd saw Sheppard trying to fight the pain "I will instruct one of the brothers to give you something to ease your suffering, so you can rest. However, you must be ready to leave by tonight. Do you think you'll be able to manage that?"

"Why tonight?" John looked up, curious

"Because tomorrow our queen arrives, and the culling begins…Am I correct in assuming you don't want to be present for that?"

"The…selection….of the…_chosen_? These men…know…their going to…die?"

"Indeed they do, Sheppard. Their forefathers made a pact with the Wraith many years ago. An agreement was reached that if each village sent volunteers, strong, able-bodied men willingly to be culled, then the rest of the planet would be spared. The monks, who are loyal to us, put these men to work in the fields to provide their own food, and with the surplus crops, they trade for whatever else they require. It is considered an honour for a follower to become of the chosen, and they in turn become a hero to their village. This arrangement has satisfied our needs, and theirs, for many years…until now. Since so many of us have awakened, there is, as you are aware, no longer enough food to go around. Also, for some unknown reason, many of the planets we have recently culled have had surprisingly fewer inhabitants than we expected, so my brothers are hungry. Would you happen to know anything about that?" Todd looked at John with suspicion.

Even though he was in misery, John felt his spirits lift for an instant…the early warning system had worked! Quickly concealing his feelings, he met the Wraith's doubtful eyes. "How…would…I…know anything? Maybe…_**Gahhnn**_...there's been…an epidemic?"

Todd looked at John, shrugged and continued. "Perhaps...As for this order, and our followers, it was not our queen's first choice to cull all who reside here, since having a ready, willing supply of food was _convenient_. Nevertheless, if our Hive doesn't cull this planet, another will, so as they are arriving tomorrow, you must be ready to leave…tonight."

Guilt overwhelmed John, as the responsibility of awakening the Wraith weighed heavily upon him. Finding out the people who lived here worshipped the Wraith made no difference, as in his book, no one deserved to die like that. It was his fault their lives would be lost, because he had killed the caretaker, causing the Wraith to awaken early. The road to hell was paved in good intensions, and that was certainly true. He remembered the day well, killing Sumner…then killing the monster who tortured the soldier, stealing his youth, until all that was left was a shadow of a man. John didn't know then the enormity of what he'd done, but being a newbie to the galaxy didn't cut it, or take away the burden he'd carried every since. Even fighting the sons of bitches ever since couldn't absolve him of his guilt…because what was done couldn't be undone, and he lived every day wondering how many lives, his action had cost…

Murphy's Law it seemed applied even to the best laid plans. Even to his foggy brain, unfocused by the raging torment rippling across his back, he realised the early warning system would in fact, cost the people of this planet their lives. The fact thousands of people had probably been saved by their plan wasn't lost on him, but he still felt conflicted. John wanted desperately to stop the massacre that was to come here, but what could he do? He was alone, hurt, and didn't know if he would be able to save his own life…let alone others. John felt he didn't deserve to escape the horror to come, but dying a pointless death wouldn't save the people on the planet. As it was, he didn't know how far he could get in his condition anyway, but if he did survive… he vowed to continue his fight to rid the galaxy of the Wraith menace, and spend the rest of his life making amends for his mistakes..

"_Well_…Sheppard. Will you be able to leave?" Todd asked, looking doubtful.

"Don't…worry…about…me. I'll…be…_fine_. What…about…Kolya?"

John saw Todd look at him, concerned, before he turned to answer. "As a matter of fact, I am on my way to watch him activate some relics, which should be amusing…since we both know how _that_ will turn out. You have my word, Sheppard. If Father Malen doesn't deal with him when his deception comes to light…then I will."

ooooOoooo

Kolya watched as Malen took the large, engraved keys in his hand, and walked over to the ornate wooden cabinet sitting at the side of the room. The monk smiled at him as he opened the door, and starting to show him all of his treasures, gathered over a lifetime. To Nessan, they just looked like oddly shaped pieces of old rusted metal, only fit for scrap. But according to the odious monk, they were relics, treasures from the Ancients, and he saw Malen becoming excited in expectation that _he_ could bring them back to life.

"Are you not thrilled to have this opportunity, Mr Sheppard? To be the one who unlocks the secrets these pieces contain?"

"Certainly, Father. I am indeed honoured, and anxious to begin. Now, let me see…which piece will I choose first?"

All the while Malen had been talking, he had been looking around and listening for signs of anyone coming….but there was none. Nessan knew, with most of the monks busy with the harvest, this was his best opportunity to escape. So, keeping his back to the monk, effectively blocking his view, he saw the green dagger used to flay open his back, and couldn't believe his luck. As he made a move, as if to grasp a relic, he grabbed the dagger instead, then turned, thrusting the sharp blade deep into Malen's chest. Kolya saw the surprised look on the monk's face as he struggled to breathe, then withdrew the blade and slit his throat… ending his life. Quickly removing the dead monk's habit, Nessan threw it over his head, regretting the dark red stains marking the front, just hoping they wouldn't be noticed by a passerby. His heart racing, the blooding pounding in his ears, Kolya made his went to the door, then, satisfied the corridor was clear, walked briskly away.

ooooOoooo

TBC

Hope you liked the little surprise...and please review.


	12. Chapter 12

Thanks for the lovely reviews to the last chapter, I am really pleased I managed to surprise you all! Hope you enjoy the one ahead, and thanks as always to my fab beta, shepsgirl72 - all mistakes are mine.

COLLABORATIONS

CHAPTER 12

The soft light from the lanterns chased away the darkness, shining their warm, rosy glow upon the long rectangular tables set out in the courtyard below. Laid upon the finest white linen were platters of pure gold, heavy with the finest cuts of meat, exotic fruits, all the colours of the rainbow and jugs of ruby wine filled to the brim. Around the tables, the faithful sat enjoying the fruits of their labours. They too looked their best, wearing their scarlet ceremonial robes with pride, laughing and joking with their brothers, possibly for the last time. If any man was afraid of what the next day would bring, no one gave a sign, as they ate and drank their fill, until the sun rose on another day and they would go into the fields, some never to return.

Frama watched as the faithful enjoyed themselves, and felt nothing but sadness. The old monk knew every man, cared for them when they were sick, but tomorrow when they went out to the fields, many of their number would become dried out corpses, scattered on the barren fields…sacrificed to the Wraith. He was glad they didn't know about Malen, for nothing should sadden their hearts and make their last time together a mournful occasion. Tonight was about celebration, giving thanks for the lives they were going to save by their act of selfless sacrifice, and Frama knew his old friend wouldn't have had it any other way.

The old monk thought of Malen. He couldn't get the memory of the monk's cold, dead body lying in a pool of blood out his head. But he was wise enough to realise that in many ways his friend had brought his early demise upon himself. Once a good man, a caring Father, he had become corrupt, too interested in serving his Wraith masters than caring for his flocks needs. For many years Malen kept any profits from the men's labour for his own ends, shamelessly collecting worthless bits of scrap in order that he could ingratiate himself with the Wraith, leaving those who really served, the faithful…men who gave up their lives, the blandest of diet and the cheapest of mead.

Nonetheless, even he was surprised at how far the kind man he once knew had fallen. Frama was appalled by the torture inflicted upon the two strangers who came to them in need. Violence had never been the way of this order, at least not until recently. Discipline he knew was necessary on occasion to keep order, especially when dealing with young men. But the cruel manner, sadistic even, in which his old friend, the man he _thought_ he knew, treated these strangers, shocked him to the core.

Satisfied with his efforts, pleased to see everyone enjoying the feast, Frama nodded to the other Monks and went inside to tend his patient. Why Malen had the pleasant young man whipped mystified him; he had been a monk for many years and this was the first he'd ever heard of the purification ritual. Normally, he knew of every activity taking place within the monastery, but this time, he'd known nothing of the intended punishment. When Phailim came and asked for some paraffin, he did think it odd at the time, but was too busy to ask why…it was only later he heard the horrific screams...

Whether or not the punishment was deserved didn't justify the man's treatment afterwards. When asked by the Father Confessor to care for the wounded man, he was appalled to see tears streaming down his ashen face…which was no wonder, as his back was a mass of mutilated flesh, covered in burns. And, while the wounds were clean, nothing had been given to ease his torment. However, even the request in itself was strange. The old man had been around Wraith for most of his life, and while he wasn't afraid of them, he had never in all that time known any Wraith to care about a human. This was unusual to be sure, but none of his business. At least he was glad to be able to help, and give the miserable man something to ease his suffering, leaving him asleep, free from pain for the time being.

ooooOoooo

Once everyone was occupied, the monks and the faithful busy at the feast, and his men out searching for Kolya, the large Wraith made his way back into the infirmary.

"Are you ready to leave…Sheppard?"

John was lying prone on the bed with Brother Frama by his side, the old monk in the process of changing the dressings on his wounds. He turned to see his weird ally looking strangely at him, a mixture of anger and concern, then realised he probably looked as bad as he felt…if that were possible.

Frama stood up, confused at the implication of the Father Confessors words. "Father_, _I don't understand…I thought this man's name was Kolya?" He looked at John then back at the Wraith in confusion. "In any case, regardless of who he is, this man is too sick to go anywhere."

Even as those words were spoken, John swore through gritted teeth, and struggled into an unsteady sitting position at the edge of the bed. He felt the room spinning, as every small movement was torture. But rise he must, so taking short, shallow breaths he managed to stay put...for now.

"It's alright, Brother Frama. The Father Confessor and I have known each other for some time. He is going to help me escape. So please, if you could… help me up?"

"Father...this man can barely move, let alone walk...please, may I be allowed to help him?" Frama smiled when Todd nodded his agreement. "First, Mr Sheppard…we need to get you something to wear… to avoid suspicion in case we are challenged. Here, take my habit."

His pain spiked, as the old monk helped him slip the garment over his head, and he hissed as the torturous rough material chaffed against his wounds.

"Now, just sip a couple of drops from this bottle. It will take the edge off your pain, but will still keep you reasonably alert for the journey." John took the bottle off the kind old man, wanting to down the lot…but knew Brother Frama was right, he would have to try and stay focused, in order to make good his escape.

Sheppard knew the worst part was ahead…getting to his feet. His vision blurred the moment he stood upright, and he staggered...only the old man's surprisingly strong grasp, preventing a certain face plant on the floor.

"Th…ks, Brother Frama. My name is _John_ by the way…John Sheppard." Sheppard saw Todd looking at him, the question clearly written in his features…Was he going to make it?

"_See_…I'm on my feet…let's go." Sheppard knew he wasn't fooling anyone, least of all Todd. But both men knew John didn't have a choice…it was either leave, or stay and be killed.

"If you are quite finished fussing over your patient, Brother Frama…we really must go." Todd came over, took Sheppard's other arm, and between the two of them they slowly led him along the corridor, down the stairs, and out the back entrance where the trucks were parked.

"This is where I must leave, Sheppard. My men will be back shortly, and as I'm sure you will agree, I cannot be seen with you. Brother Frama…would you be kind enough to take Mr Sheppard to the Ancestral Ring?" The old monk nodded his agreement. "Thank you, Brother." Todd turned back to look at John. "Brother Frama will take you as far as the Stargate, and I trust you can make your own way home from there. Oh, wait…you may want this back." Todd handed over John's sidearm.

"Why are you helping me? I though we were even?" John took the gun, and stared at Todd, puzzled.

The Wraith held his gaze. "I have found you to be a useful ally, Sheppard, and in helping you… what is it you say? Oh, yes...you _owe_ me one. Also…no other human understands my sense of humour the way you do."

John cringed as he tried to smile. "Till the next time then."

"Till the next time…Now go quickly before my men return."

Sheppard yelped as Frama helped him into the cab of the truck, and immediately regretted his outburst when he saw the remorseful look in the monks face. "I'm sorry, my son, for your treatment at our hands. Believe me when I say, this order wasn't always like this, as for centuries this monastery was a haven of peace and solace. Please, lean on your side. Hopefully, that will help keep the pressure off your back and make the journey more bearable."

As Frama started up the engine, John realised something. "Brother, _where_ is the third truck?"

"The other man, your imposter, Nessan Kolya stole it… after he knifed Father Malen to death."

John couldn't feel regret for the death of the sadistic monk, but realised to Brother Frama, the man may have been a friend.

"I am sorry for your loss, Brother, but is Nessan still missing?"

"The Father Confessor's men are out searching for him, however, he has probably gone through the ring by now. Please, John. I understand your concern, but we have no more time for conversation. We must go quickly while the others are occupied."

Every part of his body screamed as the old truck jarred his abused body as it rattled from side to side, driving along the rough, uneven roads. Once or twice John nearly passed out, when white hot pain tore him apart, graying his vision as the agonising journey seemed to go on forever. He lost all track of time, drifting in and out of consciousness, until unexpectedly the nightmarish journey ended, and the truck ground to a halt.

Illuminated by the bright headlights, John became aware of what Frama had already seen. Two bodies; one, a Wraith, was lying in the middle of the road. The other, a man wearing a monk's habit, lay beside the missing truck stuck in a ditch at the side of the road…_Nessan_.

Adrenaline cleared his foggy brain, his aches almost forgotten as John struggled to open the door, but Frama caught him arm.

"No, John…stay here. If the Wraith is still alive, he will most likely leave me alone. If not, I will signal for help. But, if they are both dead as I suspect, then there is no point in aggravating your back for nothing."

Sheppard realised Frama was right. He wasn't crazy at the idea of the old man going out there himself, but if they were dead as he hoped, then it wouldn't take both of them to check. John waited anxiously, while the old man turned over the bloody body of the Wraith and looked up, shaking his head…one down…_one_ to go. After a moment, he saw Frama make his way over to the second body, but just as he peered over the dash to see what was happening, John sat upright, as he saw Kolya alive, if not quite _himself, _holding a knife to the monks throat.

"Give me your gun, Brother…or should I just help myself?" Nessan reached for the hand gun jammed into the waistband of the monk's pants, before throwing down the knife and looking around, suddenly aware of movement from the other side of the truck.

"On your feet so soon, Sheppard…but I must say you aren't looking so good." Nessan smiled.

Even in the bright headlights, Sheppard saw it wasn't just their reflection which made Kolya's hair look light. A Wraith feeding mark was clearly visible, as was the fact Nessan had aged nearly twenty years.

"You aren't looking great yourself, Kolya. How many years have you lost 15…20?"

Nessan laughed. "Yes, well at least I'm still alive, unlike him." He motioned to another dead Wraith…with his head blown off. "It was all very disappointing really. I thought I had killed them both with the truck, but unfortunately my aim wasn't as good as I thought." Kolya hid a grimace of pain. "While I was lying stunned after the crash, one of them attacked. It took all of my rounds point blank before the menace stopped feeding. But I think the white hair quite suits me…makes me look _respectable."_

Sheppard wished the Wraith had finished the job, and was itching to kill the SOB himself. Except he was in no shape to mount an attack, and if he didn't do something, Brother Frama could soon be dead. Before the words left his mouth…he already regretted them.

"Look, Kolya. I know how much you're hurting, but if you just let Brother Frama go, we can both go back to Atlantis. Our docs have learned a lot about how the feeding process affects the body, and they'll do everything they can to help you…at least keep you out of pain."

"A tempting offer, but what kind of life would I have after that? Spend what time I have left in one of your prisons? No I think not. Now, Sheppard, lay down your gun or I will kill your friend."

Normally he would have taken the shot, but during the short walk from the truck, the adrenaline had faded and now he could barely stand. There was silence for a moment while they looked at each other. Then, afraid Kolya would make good his threat, he put down his gun just as the fiery bite of a bullet seared through his thigh...

Stunned, Sheppard lay on the ground clutching his leg as Nessan smiled. "Just a precaution, _John_. I'm not going to kill you, but equally I don't want you following me either. In any case the Wraith will be here soon to finish what I've started...if you're still alive by then. In the meantime…say _goodbye_ to Brother Frama."

Sheppard saw Kolya raise his weapon to the old man's head. All aches forgotten, John instinctively lunged for his gun and pulled the trigger, just as Nessan pushed the monk away to take the bullet point blank in the chest.

ooooOoooo

John's head was spinning; he couldn't believe what had just happened, as he crawled over to the still man lying on the ground.

"_Thank_…you, Sheppard. I...wondered…_Argh…_ what …it would take for you…_Gah_… to kill me."

"You _planned_ this?"

Nessan smiled weakly. "I didn't really want…_Mmmph_…to shoot you. But I couldn't…couldn't…_Arghhn_… allow you to take me back..._**Gah**_…to spend the rest of ...my life…like this."

Frama, who had been trying to help Kolya, looked at John and shook his head.

"Y…r a good man, Sheppard. B…t…too…_Nnnnghnn_…weak...t…o…compassionate…danger...ous...trait...for a so..dier. D...nt…let…it …be…ur…downfall." Clutching at the dog tags. "Tak…th...m…_arhhg…_I ws…a fool…to…tnk…I cud…evr…tk…ur…pl…"

Sheppard watched the light leave Kolya's eyes, and saw the mask of death set on his waxen features. Kolya was dead. It was what he wanted…what the man deserved…but when the time came to take the Genii's life, it was when Nessan wanted to die…not when he was ready to kill him.

The monk saw John list to the side, as blood flowed freely from his leg. "John…Lie down…I must take care of that."

"_Didn't_ you hear him, Brother Frama? He tricked me…the **bastard** tricked me! _**Made**_ me kill him…on _his_ terms. He was right…what kind of soldier am I, when I can't even tell when I'm being played?"

"Try not to talk, my son, keep your strength for the journey. Kolya was obviously a troubled soul, and you must not pay any heed to his words. Once you get home amongst your people, and your wounds have healed, I'm sure you will come to realise these were the words of a fool, and feel differently. But for now you _must_ let me help you."

Frama tore strips from his white shirt, and bound them as tightly as he dared around John's leg.

"Thank you, Brother, for this…and for everything you've done for me. Please... _please,_ come to Atlantis with me. They're the best kind of people, kind, generous, and there's always a welcome for a good man like you. You _mustn't_ say here…if you do you'll…"

Frama smiled. "I know I am to die tomorrow, John, and I welcome it. It was written all over the Father Confessors face…along with the fact he was so desperate for you to leave tonight. It was many years ago I left my family to join the order, and now there is no one left, not even Malen. You remind me of my son you know, his name was Soren. He had thick dark hair too, and possessed the same strength of character you have. When he became one of the faithful some years ago I was so proud...but then he was chosen to serve. Since his death, I realised too late, the mistake I had made in choosing the life I had. However, by then I'd lived this way for so long I couldn't imagine how I could go home, or even begin to start again. So please…don't distress yourself on my account. Now, let me help you up…we must leave now as dawn is nearly upon us."

Sheppard gasped, as a sharp pain pierced through his leg. With his abused body and wounded leg, he really didn't know how he was going to do this. But the monk was right, it was now or never…

His hand was shaking as he reached up to the old man. "Okay…lets..."

Frama watched horrified, as John started to rise, then suddenly collapse and lay deathly still, upon the cold, hard dirt road.

ooooOoooo

TBC

Well, Nessan is gone. As always please review...I like to know what you think, and it gives me encouragement to keep writing.


	13. Chapter 13

Thanks for the reviews, and for all of you who have stayed with the story. Thanks again to my fab beta shepsgirl72 - as always, all mistakes are mine.

COLLABORATIONS

CHAPTER 13

As Woolsey entered the conference room, he saw his relief mirrored on the faces of everyone around the table. There was none of the usual banter or arguments to interrupt, as everyone sat exhausted, quietly slumped into their seats. Weeks of caring for the needs of some 30,000 people rescued from the Wraith had been an onerous task, but nobody had minded the extra work, or the long hours away from their usual jobs. Everyone pleased the early warning system worked…happy to have saved so many lives.

Richard too was starting to feel the strain both emotionally and physically. After monitoring the system for days, it now appeared the Wraith had thankfully left their radar. So sitting down heavily on his worn leather chair, Woolsey called the meeting to order, because it was time to discuss plans for repatriating the thousands of refuges, and getting Atlantis back to normal. He didn't even want to think about the financial cost of the evacuation, or how many man hours it would take to put the Alpha site back to normal. After all, what price could you put on saving a life? Never mind thousands, which is what he was going to put into his report to the IOA…when he _finally_ got around to it

"Good morning everyone. First off, I would like to convey my thanks to everyone on base for all their hard work over this trying time. It is down to your efforts, and the people under your command, so many lives have been saved and people cared for, so please, pass on my gratitude to the staff. A special thanks goes out to you, Teyla." Richard smiled over to the beautiful Athosian woman. "If you ever want a job in the diplomatic corps, I would happily give you a personal recommendation. It couldn't have been easy liaising with all the various communities living on the Alpha site, some of whom I believe were not on the best of terms. Word reached me from a number of sources, about how often you diffused some of the more _difficult_ disputes, not to mention teaching the catering staff how to prepare some local delicacies to help our visitors feel at home. In fact, I am going to recommend to Mable she keeps some of the dishes on the menu, however I think we'll leave the tuttle root soup off for the time being…you can get too much of a good thing."

"Dr McKay, it is down to your early warning system so many lives have been saved, and in recognition of your sterling efforts, I am sending a recommendation to the IOA that you be awarded a commendation." Richard saw Rodney perk up from his slump, and the scientist's face go beet red. However, as Dr McKay was inclined to babble, he carried on quickly, without giving the brilliant man a chance to speak.

"Now, as much as we have enjoyed extending hospitality to our visitors, I think it's time for them to go home…don't you? Colonel Caldwell, would you be able to assist with the repatriation? There would be no rush this time, and not quite so many trips, as I am optimistic most people will be able to return through the 'gate. Nonetheless, I am keenly aware Atlantis has monopolised you for long enough, and I know you must be eager to return to your duties as soon as possible."

"Certainly, Mr Woolsey. The Daedalus is always happy to help, but surely I'm going to be needed here for some time, at least until we know the status on Colonel Sheppard?"

In his peripheral vision, Woolsey saw SGA's first team suddenly become agitated.

"Ah, yes, that brings me to the next item on the agenda." He smiled over to Rodney. "It's high time we started our search for Colonel Sheppard, don't you think? Dr McKay, you have a go. And, Major Lorne, would you please accompany the team? I have already asked Doctor Beckett to meet you in the jumper bay." Richard saw the relieved faces of Sheppard's team smiling at him. "_Well_…what are you people waiting for? Go bring him home."

ooooOoooo

Frama saw the soft rise and fall of John's chest, felt the thready whisper of his pulse, too shallow, too fast, and knew it wouldn't be the Wraith, but blood loss that would take his young friend's life. He'd used all his skill to help him, but knew without proper medical care soon, Sheppard would surely die. The old monk had seen too much death over the years, too many young men taken well before their time, and would willingly swop places with the pale, gaunt figure lying on the ground, if only he could.

As the darkness of night gave way to the pale golden hues of the early dawn, in the distance the old monk heard the unmistakable sound of the ring burst into life. In his mind's eye, he could see the faces of every young man who had given their lives over the years, and the men today, who were right now waiting in the fields prepared to meet the same fate. Frama mourned them all, regretted each life lost, and part of him although anxious about the pain to come, was none the less ready to meet them again on the other side.

He squinted as the bright morning sun blinded him, obscuring his vision. Even so, the old monk could still make out a tall imposing figure striding towards him, and rose ready to meet the Wraith_, _prepared to die_._ Except now, there would be no quick, easy submission to his inevitable fate. For as long as John still had a breath left in his body, he was determined to defend him as long as possible, to spare the young man yet more needless pain, and give him the chance to die in peace.

Over the years Brother Frama had met many Wraith. All were large, tall formidable beings but none of them ever looked like the two short stocky men who were running towards him, along with... a woman?

ooooOoooo

"It's Sheppard alright…or _what's_ left of him. Carson…would you _move_ your fat ass and get over here!"

Rodney, suddenly aware that Sheppard was not alone, apologised. "Hi, sorry, didn't mean to be rude. I'm Dr McKay, a friend of John's…not a medical doctor…although I do have more degrees than _him_…"

Carson ignored the jibe, too anxious to attend his patient and friend. "_**Out**_ of my way, Rodney. I need to see what the Colonel's done to himself this time. Teyla, love. Keep the pressure on that wound, and Ronon…run back to the jumper, quick as you can, and bring back Lorne with the stretcher."

Beckett saw the makeshift bandage, and guessed the old man must have helped Sheppard. "Now sir, you obviously have been caring for our friend, and I thank you for that. But I need to know what his injuries are, how long ago they happened, and what action has been taken to help him."

Even as Frama talked, Beckett set up two large bore IV's, one filled with plasma, the other with a saline solution, all the while checking his friend's vitals, concerned at the weak pulse, pallid complexion and warm clammy feel of John's skin. As he placed a field bandage firmly around the gun shot wound, Carson turned to see Ronon and Lorne coming with the stretcher, thankful they'd been so quick, because if they didn't get the Colonel home _very_ soon…Sheppard wasn't going to make it.

"Good, lads. Put it down over there…Teyla, would you hand me your bottled water please."

"This is no time for a drink, Carson…"

Ignoring Rodney, Beckett pulled out an emergency blanket, soaked it thoroughly and lay it down on the canvas stretcher, before raising John just enough to cut the habit and carefully remove it from his body.

"What the hell are you doing now, Beckett? Do you want the man to die his death of col…What the hell…_not_ again. And are those _burns_?" Rodney's face paled, shocked at the sight of John's back.

Carson had been a doctor for many years, and it was him along with Dr Keller, who'd literally patched up John after he was brutally whipped by Kolya over a year ago. However, the faint scars left from that surgery could no longer be seen as the colonel's back was mutilated by a mass of lacerations, some cuts in straight, firm lines…probably caused by a sharp knife. The others, deeper, torn and ragged, obviously as a result of yet _another_ sound thrashing from a whip. What kind of implement was used this time though, defied belief.

Beckett knew most whips were made of leather or cord, but whatever had been used on John, must have been red hot. Since inside the raw, ripped lacerations, the skin was burnt…cauterised, along with less serious burns on the rest of his back. It would be impossible to tell how far down the dermis was damaged until John went under a scanner. The first rule of triage was paramount, however. Deal with the primary injury first…blood loss, because if he didn't get the bleeding stopped soon, the other injuries would be irrelevant.

Ronon, walked over to check the Wraith was no longer a threat, and stopped when he saw a dead man with a livid feeding mark and bullet wound, both visible on his chest. "Is that Kolya?" Ronon turned to ask the stranger.

Frama looked up at the large man, exhaustion and shock showing in his face. "Yes…it is."

"Good...glad he's dead. At least Sheppard managed to take him out."

The old man shook his head sadly. "I don't think your friend sees it that way. Mr Kolya tricked him into taking his life by using me as bait. John was angry at himself for being…'played' as he called it. So _please,_ when he recovers, it would be wise not to say too much about it."

"_Ronon_. Come over here, son…you too, Major. Now on my count, gently lift the colonel onto the stretcher. And please…be _careful_ of his back. One…two, easy now…Good." Carson checked to make sure the IV's were still attached, and signalled the men to move out. "Let's get him back to the jumper as quickly, but gently, as possible before those bloody Wraith come."

Teyla knew John was unconscious and probably wouldn't hear her, but she took his limp hand in hers anyway.

"We came for you, John… so you must hang on, it won't be long now until we get you home…to Atlantis."

ooooOoooo

All of the team stood, feeling helpless, as they struggled to see their friend who was hidden by monitors, a pale, frail looking figure lying unconscious in isolation.

Keller saw their distress, knew how much they wanted to be there with him, and felt their pain. Nodding to Carson as he settled Sheppard into the specialist unit, Jennifer walked over to the door, disposed of her hat, gown, gloves and mask, before finally entering the main ward.

Going over to her friends, she stood with them as they continued to stare at Sheppard through the glass, before starting to speak.

"I know this looks pretty bad, but it's really only a precaution you know." Jennifer smiled at them all.

"Okay, how about I tell you how the surgery went first, huh? Well…the bullet nicked an artery, but for once it was a blessing it didn't go straight through, as it's presence slowed down the bleeding…otherwise Colonel Sheppard would have died. We removed it, repaired the damage without too many problems, and have replaced most of the blood lost. This," Keller motioned to the isolation unit, "is because of the risk of infection due to the burns, which has been exacerbated, by a stubborn infection caused by one of the knife wounds inflicted upon him earlier."

"Wha…you mean to tell me those sadistic sons of bitches tore him apart with a knife, _before_ whipping him! What kind of religious order would do something like that?"

"The Wraith worshipping kind, Rodney." Teyla replied, only too aware of what these people were capable of after speaking to Frama.

Jennifer nodded. "Teyla's correct, Rodney. But who did it, or why, isn't our priority, our concern is to get him well again. Anyway, to get back to why we have Colonel Sheppard in isolation. The burns themselves vary between first and second decree, so while they will cause a lot of pain, Carson and I are hopeful, he will be able to recover without the need for skin grafts…however, only time will tell. In the meantime, we are pumping him full of broad spectrum antibiotics, as well as keeping him in a sterile environment to give him the best chance of making a quick recovery. I know you all want to be with him, and you can be…but only one at a time, and you must wear protective clothing…_okay_? So who wants to go in first?"

ooooOoooo

His blurred vision started to come into focus, just as every part of his body screamed in pain. John heard the monitors go wild as he shuddered, struggling to breathe…barely able to hear through the roaring sound of blood rushing through his ears.

"_Easy_, easy, Colonel...that's it…just give this a few minutes, and the pain will start to ease."

"Ca…sn?"

A pair of familiar blue eyes smiled at him, the only thing visible on the masked face. "You're doing just fine, Colonel, all this." Beckett waved his hands around himself and the room, "is because of the burns. You came in already carrying an infection, so we need to keep you in a sterile environment. But we have it under control, so close your eyes, because sleep is the best medicine for you right now."

Suddenly, another figure appeared in his peripheral vision. "Can't I even get to say _hello_, Beckett? I mean…I've only been sitting here, bored out my mind for four hours! Do you know, Sheppard, he won't even let me have my laptop? Pleassse…I would have cleaned it…but no…So what am I doing waiting for you to wake up…**nothing.** Unless of course you count working out the next six month staff rotas in my head…"

"_Hi_…_R...ny._" John gave his friend a tired half smile, barely visible though the oxygen mask.

"Hi, yourself, Sheppard. Go on then, get back to sleep…I needed to do those staff rotas anyway. C'mon, close your eyes" And as he saw his friend's eyelids close, he added. "It's good to have you back, John."

In the day's ahead, John was vaguely aware of people coming and going, but he never stayed awake for long. It was sometimes hard to identify some of the people hidden under their masks, but he always recognised his team instantly. Ronon's dark brooding eyes, scanning the area, always looking out for him. Teyla's beautiful brown ones, filled with concern as she mopped his brow and helped him choke down some broth. And of course, Rodney's blue eyes, which just like the man himself, never stayed at peace, always darting about looking for something to do, even if it was just counting the tiles covering the floor.

Sheppard knew he must be starting to recover when the pain level started to increase. A reduction in meds meant Beckett thought he could cope with the additional discomfort…which he could, but his leg throbbed like crazy, and his back hurt like a bitch. It was good, though, to have the fuzzy, cotton wool feeling gone from his brain, and be able to stay awake for more that a few minutes at time, as he was anxious to catch up with everything he'd missed…if only Carson would let him.

There was only one snag about being more lucid, because the more he alert he became, the more he remembered about his last encounter with Kolya, and the angrier he got about being used. He kept thinking about Nessan's last words to him. '_You're too weak, too compassionate for a solder, John. Don't let it be your downfall." _After everything Nessan had done to him, he still would have been willing to take him back to Atlantis for treatment, but only because he thought the Genii was going to kill Frama…so what choice did he have? But the bastard tricked him, pushing the monk away at the last second, making sure he took a kill shot, ending his life… John ran through the conversation over and over again. He didn't regret killing Nessan, how could he? The man had tortured him, stolen his identity and engineered his vicious whipping just to serve his own ends…but, when it came right down to it, he only took Kolya's life when the old monk was in danger. So, what did that say about him…would he ever have killed the Genii otherwise? Had he really gone soft over the years? Maybe Nessan _was_ right…If that was the case, was he fit to be a solider…let along be commander of a base responsible for the lives of everyone here? Closing his eyes against the pounding in his head, John just didn't know anymore…

ooooOoooo

"I know your back itches, Colonel, but if you scratch you'll break the blisters then it's back to isolation with you…do you really want that? Teyla, would you tell this man to leave his back alone?" Beckett looked at the beautiful woman, exasperated.

Teyla strolled over to the bed, and at the last minute pulled out a pair of bright, yellow knitted woollen mittens. "I have brought you a present, John…Well, what do you think?"

John sighed. "Okay, you win, Carson. I think I'll manage not to scratch…No offense, Teyla, but I don't really think yellow is my colour."

Teyla sat down and smiled at him, but barely got an acknowledgement in return. "What's wrong, John. I thought you would be happy to be in the main ward, where you can have as many visitors as you like."

"I am…Sorry, Telya. I don't mean to seem ungrateful, but this itch is driving me crazy, so I'm not very good company at the moment. In fact, I'm feeling kinda tired…would you mind if I took a nap?"

The Athosian looked over at Carson, who just shrugged his shoulders. "Of course, John. You are still healing, I'll be back to see you later."

Without even a wave, John closed his eyes, feigning sleep. Teyla looked back concerned, then went into the office to speak to Beckett.

"What's wrong with him, Carson? I can see he is recovering physically, but why is he shutting everyone out. Rodney came to see me earlier today…he was most upset when John practically ignored him, while he tried to tell him all the gossip."

"I know, love," Beckett sighed. "I've tried getting him to talk to the new psychiatrist, but you can imagine how _that_ went. Woolsey even came by and congratulated him on his part in promoting the early warning system. When he told him how many people were saved, John did seem to perk up for a minute or so…then just seemed to zone out again. I'm running out of options as to what to do next. The Colonel is showing all the classic signs of depression, which is not unusual considering everything he's been through, but it's just not like him to be so down, and I don't really want to start him on medication until I've tried everything else."

"Leave it with me, Dr Beckett…I may have an idea." Teyla's eyes lit up, then she smiled at the Scot before walking away

ooooOoooo

_"Dear Mr Woolsey,_

_After giving the matter much consideration, it is with regret I would like to tender my resignation as Military Commander of Atlantis along with my commission in the Air force."_

"Hello, John. Am I interrupting something, I can come back later if you wish?"

Sheppard snapped the laptop shut, and turned to meet the owner of the familiar voice. "Brother Frama. I thought…"

The old man smiled. "It's just Frama now. Well as you know, John, I did intend to stay on the planet, but your friends were quite insistent I came back with them. Besides, I was worried about you. Anyway, once we knew you were out of danger, the young woman Teyla introduced me to Halling, and now I am helping tutor the children on the mainland. So, it seems the Ancestors had other plans for me after all. But enough of me, how are you feeling?"

"It only hurts when I move." John smiled, happy to see his old friend alive and well.

"I'm sure it does, but you are looking better…except, if you don't me saying, so, you look tired…_haunted_ even. This would be about Mr Kolya, I suppose? Excuse an old man for prying, but once a monk…always a monk."

John turned to him with tears glistening in his eyes. "I used to be so sure of myself, Father. Even stood up to my superiors, my father…if I thought I was right. But I realise now, despite everything Kolya did to me, I still wouldn't have killed him unless I had to. Does that make me weak…_does_ it? And he tricked me; the _bastard_ actually tricked me into getting what he wanted. How _**dare**_ he do that…"

Frama saw Sheppard's tears start to flow, and he got up and pulled around the curtains to keep prying eyes away.

"He was right, you know. I am too compassionate, too weak to be a soldier…to protect my people. And I'm not going to endanger my friends just because I've gone soft, so, I've decided to quit…go home, and find something else to do with my life…something suitable for a guy with too much _**compassion**_."

"Are you quite finished feeling sorry for yourself?"

John stared back at Frama, surprised at the rebuke.

"Nessan Kolya was an evil man, who stopped at nothing to get what he wanted. Yes, he used you, but think about it, John, he didn't want to carry on living the way he was, yet, he didn't have the courage to take his own life. Consider this, too; why did he want to take _your_ identity? No one in the monastery knew who either of you were, or cared for that matter. But he wanted to become you…why? I'll tell you. Nessan may have hated you, John, but he admired you, too…what you stood for, the courage you possess. Because only someone with courage like yours could have withstood everything he put you through and still kept your humanity…something I think he lost many years ago. If you care to hear the opinion of an old man, I think you brought out the best in him. When he cared for you, I could see it wasn't all down to self interest. Probably for the first time in his adult life, I think he wanted to do the best he could for someone. However, as he lay dying, he just couldn't help himself…he'd learned your weakness, you do have a good heart…and he tried to use it against you. But, please, John…don't let him win. I, too, remember his last words '_I was a fool to think I could ever take your place._' Now, are those the words of a man who thought you were weak?"

The old man saw a veil lift from John's eyes. "You're tired, John. But before you sleep, think on what I've said…don't do anything rash...don't let him win."

Sheppard scrubbed his hand across his face, wiping away his tears. He felt drained after the conversation, yet better than he'd felt since coming home. Frama was right, Nessan had played him, but in a way he couldn't really blame the man. He remembered when he was fed on, the horrific pain, worse than any other he'd ever experienced…and the demoralising effect of losing decades in just a few moments. Todd had saved him from that, given him back his youth, but even if he hadn't, would he have wanted to die? Probably not, because unlike Kolya, he would have spent his last days being cared for by his friends...his family. Nessan was a broken man, right from childhood, and Sheppard now doubted he could have changed, regardless of how many fresh starts he got. The fact that even while dying Nessan still wanted to carry on torturing him, proved it.

John opened the laptop, saw the letter on the screen and pressed delete. He really felt like crap…but knew the feeling would pass, and he would eventually recover. Like Nessan, his life hadn't always been easy, but he'd made the best of his opportunities, and had learned to forgive his father, in the long run, managing to put all the bad stuff behind him. These days John enjoyed a good life. He had a home, friends and people who cared for him…something Nessan never had, and while he felt sorry for the young, abused Genii boy, he felt nothing, not even hatred, for the evil man whose life he took. Just glad Kolya was dead, never to bother him again...John closed his eyes and knew he would sleep soundly, for the first time in days...free from regret or any remorse. So in the end Nessan had him pegged all wrong...he really wasn't that nice a guy after all…

THE END

Hope you enjoyed the story, and I would really appreciate the feedback. So please review, as I like to know what you, the reader's like (or) don't, plus, it give me the encouragement to keep writing...Thanks, Joanie


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